


Its Called Love, Punks

by raeganrolland



Series: It's Called Love, Punks [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Friends to Lovers, Gay Bucky Barnes, M/M, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 11:17:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 26,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19375639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raeganrolland/pseuds/raeganrolland
Summary: Best friends since before diapers, Steve and Bucky must manage new territory before their high school graduation. Bucky tries to deal with being in love with Steve, Steve is confused. Shenanigans and eternal love ensue.Basically, Bucky is soul-crushingly in love with Steve(Steve and Bucky have siblings. Garrett is Steve's older brother and Ben is Bucky's older brother. They're best friends as well. Bucky has a younger sister named Becca, Steve has a younger sister named Evelyn who is mentioned but not pictured here)





	1. Chapter 1

So the thing is, Bucky is pretty much in love with his best friend.

And that sucks, because he’s known Steve since birth (their moms went to Lamaze together), and he’s pretty much a zero on the Kinsey scale (which is slightly questionable, when taking into consideration his flair for pink button downs, so maybe he’s a one). Point is, Steve is straight and Bucky is not. It’s unfortunate but he’s learned to deal. He just wishes Steve would stop walking around being such a hot ass, because it’s really starting to fuck with his head.

Bucky’s front door opens with a bang and then slams shut. Steve can’t even be quiet when his mouth is closed. Bucky rolls his eyes and pours out two bowls of Trix cereal. Steve ambles into the kitchen, eyes hooded and yawning. He pulls his bowl of cereal towards him while Bucky is still pouring the milk, and it splatters onto the kitchen table.

“Watch it, asshole.” Steve just grunts and slides the placemat across the small puddle.

“Steve!” The screech makes Bucky cringe and Steve slides back from his cereal just in time to catch a lapful of tweenage blonde girl. Bucky’s baby sister has been crushing on Steve pretty much since the day she discovered lip gloss, and no, Bucky is not thrilled with it.

“Hey baby,” Steve purrs, tucking Becca’s hair behind her ear and making her giggle. Bucky flushes red and then growls. He’s jealous of his little sister for fuck’s sake.

“Becca, extract yourself.” Bucky grabs the back of her shirt and hauls her backwards off of Steve’s lap, her socked feet slipping on the tiled floor.

“Bucky!” She screeches, “what the hell? Let me go! ”

As soon as he lets go of her shirt she stumbles backwards into him, making his back slam into the refrigerator. Magnets go flying everywhere as they land in a flailing heap of limbs on the kitchen floor. Steve snorts purple milk, spraying a fine mist of it all over the kitchen table.

“I give it a 9 for originality, but it’s lacking the grace required for the gold.”

By the time Bucky heaves himself up off of the floor, gives Steve the finger, and endures a few pithy smacks from Becca, his own cereal is soggy. He rolls his eyes and leaves it, snagging his messenger bag off of the table.

“Let’s just go to school.” Bucky smacks Steve on the back of the head on his way by, just for good measure.

Steve’s truck is older than he is, but not in the cool way. It has rust spots on the paint and a cassette deck. The ugly bench seat smells like sweat, tobacco, and Axe body spray. No matter how many times Bucky tries to tell him, Steve won’t believe that it doesn’t work like it does in the commercials.

Steve slams the door when he slides into the truck, fiddling with his cassette adapter and iPod until something suitable blares from the cheap speakers. He reaches across Bucky to grab something out of the glove box and Bucky presses himself back against the seat.

“Want a smoke?” Steve asks, lifting a box of those fucking ridiculous candy cigarettes to his mouth and extracting one with his lips in a way that might be hot if they weren’t, you know, fucking candy cigarettes. That doesn’t keep Bucky from buying them wherever he sees them, because they’re hard to come by these days and Steve loves them, even if they do taste like chalk.

“Do you have any real ones?” Bucky asks, slipping his sunglasses onto his face. Steve twirls his fake cigarette between his lips, candy pink tongue flicking out to draw it further into his mouth. Bucky tries not to get distracted by this. He fails, miserably, if he’s being honest with himself.

“That shit’ll kill ya,” Steve drawls, and Bucky rolls his eyes. The candy crunches a second later and Bucky looks over to see Steve licking chalky residue from his sugar sticky lips. Bucky suppresses a groan. Steve swings his truck onto campus, and Bucky purses his lips.

“This is the staff parking lot,” Bucky says. “You can’t park here, you ass.”

“What are they gonna do, spank me?” Steve grins and Bucky stares out of the window with a scowl. That’s exactly the visual he needs to get through Math class. Sharon’s persistent flirting will surely be much more easy to handle with the image of Steve being spanked (of him spanking Steve) to get him though it.

“Besides, I need some fucking caffeine, man. Do you want me to die?” Steve parks and grabs his backpack from the floor between Bucky’s feet. “Do you want me to be so exhausted that I chop a few fingers off in Woodshop? How would you feel then, buck, huh?”

“Oh my god. Shut up and go get your fucking Red Bull.” Bucky hops out of the truck and slips his bag over one shoulder, walking side by side with Steve to the convenience store.

“Also, a messenger bag, really? Be more gay. I dare you.” Steve turns to grin at Bucky, who fails to mention that the door to the store is swinging open. When Steve’s head and the door connect with a loud crack, Bucky laughs so hard he doubles over. When he looks up to see Natasha holding the door open and Steve gaping like a fish, he has to grab the payphone to keep from falling over. He’s laughing that hard.

“That’s what you get, asshole.” Bucky sweeps by him and waves at Natasha as she gapes at Steve. “Morning.”

“Morning,” she replies. “Uh, sorry Steve.”

Steve just waves his free hand in a forget about it sort of gesture, the other hand cupping his nose. Bucky cackles with delight and pulls the door open. Once in the store, he grabs two Red Bulls and a licorice rope and sets them on the counter.

“Dude,” he says when Steve finally trudges inside, wrinkling his nose. “Can you get this for me?”

Steve flips him off with one hand while getting a five out of his wallet with the other. He’s multi-talented.

The licorice rope doesn’t really help him get through Math class. He’s got it wrapped around his neck a few times, and then his left arm, with the rest slung across the desk. It’s like a red, sugary python. The teacher is staring at him like she wants to say something about it but knows it won’t do any good, and Bucky just gives her a charming smile before sucking more red rope between his lips.

“That looks good.” Bucky mentally rolls his eyes before turning them sideways to look at Sharon. She’s leaning over her desk, pushing her cleavage up with her arm, and staring directly at Bucky’s mouth. “Can I have a bite?”

She’s no doubt picturing some sort of Lady and the Tramp scenario here, wherein Bucky lifts up the other end of his licorice rope and they chew it until their lips meet in the middle of algebra, and the class cheers and the teacher gives them an A. That so isn’t happening. The rope is like ten feet long, and just, no.

He rips off a piece from the end he isn’t chewing on and thrusts it out at her, because his mama still taught him some manners. She pouts a little but takes it anyway, wrapping her lips around it and pulling it into her mouth slowly. Bucky looks back at the board and smirks a little when she huffs. It’s either ignore her flirting or tell her that he’d rather fuck her ex-boyfriend. He chooses the simpler of the two.

He’s shuffling out of Math and heading towards Home Economics (which he pretends to hate but secretly enjoys; he’s just that gay) when Sharon catches up to him. She grabs his elbow and spins him around, making him nearly drop his licorice rope. He snatches it out of the air and coils it around his fingers, staring at her with a blank expression.

“So what are you doing this weekend?” Sharon asks, giving him a pretty smile. She really is a beautiful girl, nice and small. Maybe he’d even give her a shot if he weren’t sure she already had their first-born named. It’d be a surefire way to take care of that pesky virginity issue. It’s become more of a pressing matter since he turned 18, like it’s something he has to take care of before a certain deadline; sort of like a parking ticket. She would feel soft and small beneath him, but that doesn’t change the fact that he knows he would rather have miles of lean, sinewy muscle on top of him, pressing him down.

Speaking of, she asked him a question.

“Hanging out with Steve, probably.” He shifts his messenger bag and lifts the end of the licorice rope to his mouth absently. Her pleasant smile tightens, becoming a little terse as she gives a short, jerky nod.

“Ask a stupid question, right?” She laughs a little and Bucky gets this uneasy look on his face, because what the hell is that supposed to mean? “So what are you two going to do without each other next year?”

“Uh, I think we’re both going to state.” Bucky shifts awkwardly and scratches the back of his head. She laughs again; that short, bitchy laugh, and Bucky scowls, immediately remembering why he doesn’t really get along with Sharon. She’s sort of a bitch.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve pauses at the door to his Home Economics class and looks down the hall, spotting Bucky’s profile. He’s got miles of that ridiculous licorice rope curled all around him like a lasso or a snake, and Steve grins.

His smile falters slightly after he takes a few steps and sees that Bucky is talking to Sharon, and he feels something hot and unpleasant settle in the pit of his stomach. He hates Sharon. He doesn’t even really know why. She was a bitch in fourth grade, and she’s a bitch now. So that’s a good enough reason, Steve suspects. Plus, Bucky’s face is all pinched like he’s annoyed and maybe a little pissed off, and only Steve himself is allowed to make him look like that.

“Dude, the tiramisu ain’t gonna cook itself,” Steve drawls, slinging one arm around Bucky’s shoulders. Sharon looks miffed, and bares her teeth at Steve in what he assumes is supposed to be a smile.

“So did you two not go to prom because you couldn’t go together?” She asks, smiling innocently. Steve grins and takes one of the loops of licorice from Bucky’s neck and loops it around his own.

“Did you not go to prom because you couldn’t go with the whole football team?” Steve retorts sarcastically, grinning as Bucky tries to cover a laugh with a cough. She glares, and Steve wiggles his fingers at her before spinning he and Bucky around and leading him down the hall. The licorice around their necks stretches and pulls them back together as they walk towards their class.

“Don’t break it, asshole!” Bucky says as he and Steve both try to fit through the door at the same time. Steve blanches as Bucky elbows him in the ribs, and they finally stumble into the room. Bucky is grinning and chewing on his candy, and Mrs. Gamble gives them an exasperated look.

“Lose the licorice, boys,” she says fondly, “and wash your hands.”

Bucky rolls the licorice up and shoves it into its plastic bag as he and Steve gravitate towards their station. They wash their hands and Steve scowls at the directions on the board. “This is bullshit. Why the fuck do I need to know how to make tiramisu?”

“So you can draw attention away from your giant head,” Bucky retorts, neatly lining up the mixing bowls and spoons. Steve scoffs and begrudgingly puts on his apron, fumbling with the tie in the back. Bucky gets his tied on quickly and efficiently and rubs his hands together, surveying the table.

“You’re gay,” Steve retorts. “Baking comes naturally to your people.” Bucky dips his hand in the flour and smacks Steve across the face, leaving a perfect, powdery handprint on Steve’s right cheek. “Oh, it’s on now, bitch.” Steve’s got his long fingers in the chocolate powder when Mrs. Gamble’s voice makes them jump.

“Boys! We’ve got two weeks left. Please try to behave?” They grin sheepishly at each other. Bucky wipes his hand on a dishtowel while Steve tries hard not to bust up laughing. “Natasha’s partner is out today, so I’m going to have her work with you two.”

Steve freezes and turns to find the girl of his dreams smiling at him. She looks down at the chocolate covering his fingers like she’s afraid he’s going to touch her. He grins and wipes his hand on Bucky’s apron. To his surprise, the other boy grunts and pushes him away. He turns to find Bucky meticulously measuring out ingredients, determined to make the world’s greatest tiramisu, apparently.

“Hey, guys!” She chirps, and Bucky gives her a meager smile before lining up his eggs. She turns back to Steve and crinkles her brow. “You’ve got – um.” Natasha laughs and reaches up with her tiny hand to wipe the flour from his cheek. Steve takes in a deep breath and thinks very hard about what exactly he should say, how exactly he should act. His stomach ties itself in knots and he lets out what can only be called a giggle. She gives him an odd look, but she’s still smiling, so he puts it in the win column. “I love tiramisu,” she says.

“Me too,” he replies enthusiastically, which is a complete lie. He doesn’t even think he’s ever actually had tiramisu. He turns his head to catch Bucky giving him a look like he’s a complete moron before he goes back to stirring. “Gonna let us help ya there, Buck?”

Bucky doesn’t reply, just keeps stirring with his eyes trained on the bowl of tan goop like it holds the meaning to life or something, which is weird. Steve wonders what’s wrong; because Bucky seemed fine a few minutes ago, but then Natasha is touching his arm and he turns back to face her.

“What are you guys doing tonight?” Natasha asks, and Steve swallows hard. He doesn’t have anything planned, and was probably just going to end up in Bucky’s basement doing whatever. Something in the back of his mind is telling him that no, he really isn’t free, but the only thing he can think about at that moment is pleasing Natasha.

“I don’t know,” Steve says, aiming for casual. He leans on the counter and sticks his elbow in a blob of chocolate. He pretends not to notice and prays Natasha didn’t. “There are a few things going on, but nothing definite.”

Bucky snorts and turns a little. “Hey, genius. Tony and Bruce’s?”

Steve wants to bang his head on the counter. That’s right. They’re having a party. Bucky just reminded him last night. Steve doesn’t turn to look at Bucky but instead smiles at Natasha. “There is this thing, but we can skip it, or whatever.” He can feel Bucky’s angry glare between his shoulder blades and he shifts his weight to his other foot.

“Oh,” Natasha says. “That sucks if you guys have plans. My parents are out of town, and I was thinking about maybe having a party. I wanted you two to come.” She has this adorable little pout, big green eyes all sad, and Steve flips the bird to whatever plans he may have and takes a step towards her.

“Really?” Steve replies, trying not to show that he approves wholeheartedly of this idea. It’s the best idea ever, actually. It’s even better than that time he and Bucky set up a Slip n’ Slide in Bucky’s backyard when they were nine. And that had been a damn good time. “We’ll be there.”

“Awesome.” She gives him a blinding grin and then bites her lip thoughtfully. She looks down at the counter, and Steve chooses this moment to thrust his fist in the air. He turns to look at Bucky, but he’s still looking down at the chipped countertop. Steve gets the overwhelming urge to hug his best friend then, but he has no idea why. He turns back to Natasha before he can act on it. She looks back up at him and smiles brightly. “I just need to figure out how to work out the drinks. You wouldn’t be able to help out with that, would you?” She says it like a joke, but her eyes are slightly hopeful.

“Sure,” Steve says, a knee jerk reaction telling him to please Natasha however he can. He feels Bucky stiffen next to him. Most likely because he knows Steve doesn’t really have any way to get enough booze to fuel a party as big as someone popular like Natasha’s would be. Natasha’s entire face lights up, and Steve’s heart thuds in his chest. Again, he arranges himself into what he thinks he should look like. His muscles are all tense, and he just hopes he doesn’t giggle again.

“You can?” She grabs Steve’s forearm. Suddenly, nothing else matters except making Natasha’s face stay like that, no matter what. So he grins and nods. “Do you have a fake ID or something?”

“Uh – yeah.” The oven door slams shut, and he hears Bucky storm off. Bucky must be pissed because Steve is lying through his teeth, and Bucky is the sort of guy that never lies. He feels slightly guilty as Natasha continues to smile at him.

A heavyweight settles in the pit of his stomach, and it stays there as Bucky comes back to continue working on the tiramisu with cold eyes and Natasha commandeers his attention to talk about her party. 


	3. Chapter 3

So, Bucky may be a little jealous of Natasha.

Steve has practically been in love with her since she moved here two years ago. And thing is, he’s jealous of her, but he can’t hate her. She’s gorgeous, kind, and super smart. She’s an absolute doll, and he just wants Steve to be happy. That doesn’t make it easy to watch them together, because Steve is practically in love with Natasha, but Bucky is pathetically in love with Steve.

She didn’t even offer to help with the tiramisu they got an A on (all thanks to him), so Bucky thinks now he may have a real excuse to begin to dislike her.

“Bucky, we didn’t help at all,” she says, her face the picture of sincerity. “Let me do the dishes. I feel bad.” She sweeps all the dishes up into her tiny arms, and Bucky deflates. She really is nice, and it’s not fair to be mad at her just because Steve thinks Bucky is invisible whenever she is around. It’s really Steve he should be pissed at. He’s furious with him. First, he ignores him all through the class to talk to Natasha and then just blows off the party Bucky has been looking forward to all week, and just including Bucky in his plans without even asking him. He may be acting like a jealous girlfriend, but at this moment he really doesn’t care. He’s hurt and angry and sick of feeling like he does for Steve. This has been the worst Home Ec period ever.

“Don’t be silly,” Bucky says tightly, taking the dishes from her and thrusting them into Steve’s arms. “Steve will do them.” Bucky gives him a menacing grin, daring Steve to argue. Steve knows that look - knows he’s pissed. So he huffs and takes the dishes to the sink. Natasha laughs and then turns to the station. She starts to clean up, and Bucky helps her.

“So you’re coming tonight, right?” Natasha asks, and Bucky smiles politely and nods. He’d rather not go. There are actually hundreds of other places he’d rather be, but he knows Steve will force him into it with his stupid beautiful blonde hair and puppy dog eyes. That, and whatever fucked up scheme he’s concocting in order to get the booze. “Good. I can’t believe we’re about to graduate. I’m going to miss you in Drama class.”

“It’s been fun,” Bucky says truthfully because it has been. Natasha is awesome, and it certainly isn’t her fault that Bucky can barely look at her. It’s not like she’s in his way or anything. Natasha or not, Steve’s still straight.

Near the end of class, she makes sure they’re both coming to the party, and Steve nearly splits his face with a wide grin when she tells him to call her when they’re on their way. Natasha waves before bouncing over to her group of friends on the other side of the room. Bucky sighs and goes to hang up his apron. He turns back to find Steve grinning like an idiot at him, blonde hair flopping in his eyes and flour on his cheek, looking completely adorable. He’s bouncing on his feet from all the excitement, and it’s actually sort of endearing. Bucky would like it if he didn’t feel like throwing up.


	4. Chapter 4

The door to their classroom opens then and Sam saunters in, his thumbs hooked in the straps of his backpack. He strolls right past Mrs. Gamble, who looks up and rolls her eyes. Sam comes to a stop at their station, reaching out to poke their tiramisu.

“Mine did not look like that,” he says in way of greeting, “it was like, lopsided and kind of runny. Good job, Buck.”

“How do you know Bucky made it?” Steve asks petulantly, stomping one foot. Bucky raises an eyebrow and Sam rolls his eyes. By this time, Bucky has gone from angry to slightly miffed. He’s never been able to stay mad at Steve. Irritated as hell, yes, but never angry.

“Because if you had gotten anywhere near it, it would have looked like a pile of dog shit,” Sam replies. He grabs a plate and a knife and starts to cut himself a piece.

“Samuel!” Mrs. Gamble calls, and Sam pauses and looks over his shoulder at her. “You aren’t even in this class.”

“I know,” Sam says. “I just want to try a piece of my friends’ crappy tiramisu, c’mon.” The teacher rolls her eyes and Sam grins as he puts a giant piece on his plate. Steve and Bucky follow suit, and they all carry their pieces to the cafeteria after the bell rings.

“I talked to Wanda again earlier,” Sam says excitedly, and Steve snorts.

“You tell her the time again, Sammy?”

“No.” Sam huffs and pushes him, making Steve trip over his shoelaces and crash heavily into a row of lockers, nearly dropping his plate. Sam bursts out laughing and Bucky just dips his head and smiles softly. That’s just classic Steve - all beauty, zero grace.

“We talked about the weather,” Sam says proudly, giving them a proud grin. Steve and Bucky share a look over the top of Sam’s head. Steve makes a slow jerking off motion, and Bucky cracks up.

“So, we need like, a plan,” Steve says as they sit down at their usual table. Their trays are laden with crappy school food, and they throw their bags at their feet.

“For what?” Sam asks, his mouth full of pizza. Bucky wrinkles his nose and tears off a piece of his muffin. Steve sticks his straw in his giant fountain drink and leans in.

“We need to get booze for Natasha’s party,” Steve says excitedly, and Bucky zones out as Steve gets Sam up to date. Instead of listening to him talk, Bucky watches the way his lips move. He studies the brightness of his eyes and smiles at the way he gestures with his hands. He’s wearing a shirt that Bucky picked out for him at the mall a few months ago, and there is a hole on the right knee of his jeans that keeps getting bigger because Steve can’t stop picking at it. He smiles, and it lights up the room.

Steve means everything to him, and it’s a little overwhelming.

“I can use my fake ID,” Sam is saying when Bucky starts listening again. Steve rolls his eyes and, thankfully, finishes chewing before piping up.

“Your fake ID is for shit,” Steve informs him, stabbing at the mashed potatoes on his tray.

“Dude, it’ll totally work,” Sam says, nodding eagerly. “I’ll get the booze, and we’ll take it to the party. Steve, dude. You’re totally getting laid tonight.”

“I really could, huh? Man, what I wouldn’t give to get with Natasha.” Steve grins, all wide and bright, and Bucky’s stomach lurches.

He thought that he would get over this in time - that it was just something he had to deal with. But it’s getting harder and harder, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can take it.

He gets up quickly, grabbing his tray and bag and stepping backward. “I – gotta. Uh, gym.” Bucky flees the cafeteria, ignoring Steve’s shout of protest.

Upon realizing that he actually has about forty minutes until gym class, Bucky sighs and makes his way towards the abandoned softball field at the back of campus. It’s tucked away under a canopy of trees, soft rays of light spilling through the leaves and onto the mossy concrete. The grass itself is slightly overgrown, weeds peeking up out of the pitcher’s mound, the dusty bases long gone. Ben was on the baseball team when he was here, back when this field was still used. Bucky remembers dollar hot dogs and flat soda while waiting for his brother to make another home run.

The field isn’t used for games anymore. The newer field on the other side of the school gets all the action now, and that’s perfectly fine with Bucky. He ducks behind the old dugout and plops down onto the hard-packed earth, hands already digging around in his bag for his illegal contraband.

He lights the cigarette and then pulls his iPod out. He cues up some of Tony and Bruce’s demos instead of the Broken Hearts Club playlist he created on a particularly emo night.

He thinks over this thing with Steve as he takes a deep drag from his cigarette. The smoke curls in a lazy blue cloud over his head as he leans back against the concrete, and he doesn’t come up with anything new. Steve is still straight. It’s still a lost cause. Bucky is still pretty much pathetic. Same shit, different day.

Bucky looks around, realizing that this may be one of the last times he sneaks behind this dugout to smoke or think, or just be alone. Graduation is less than two weeks away, and he’ll have no reason to be on campus after that. Behind this old dugout is where he and Steve got drunk for the first time. Fourteen and buzzed, off of a couple of warm beers, they stole from Ben and Garrett, who no doubt stole them from someone else.

Something sad curls in his belly as nostalgia takes over. He has the feeling things are going to make a drastic change, and not just because they’re about to graduate.

Bucky stubs out his cigarette on a mossy cinderblock and makes his way towards the gymnasium.


	5. Chapter 5

Steve ditches his English class.

It’s not like he feels bad about it. All their projects are done, and they’re just coasting until graduation. So he tells his teacher he has to go return a book to the library and just never goes back.

Instead, he’s stealthily working his way across campus towards the football field, where Bucky’s gym class is playing lacrosse. Bucky loves lacrosse. He played lacrosse all through high school and pretty much nailed them the championship. He had to listen to Bucky lament over the fact that he may never get to play lacrosse again, and then had to listen to him rejoice over it being chosen as their final unit in gym.

Cursing his tall frame, he ducks behind the library when he spots a hall monitor. After he rounds the corner, Steve makes a break for it and jogs out to the field.

Steve walks out from under the bleachers, sitting down on one of the benches on the edge of the field. It doesn’t take him long to find Bucky, even with the whole class wearing facemasks and the Same uniform. He spots Bucky’s lean frame quickly. His gray Phys Ed shirt is slightly too small, thanks to a few too many washes, and his dark blue shorts hang low on his hips. He streaks across the field and flings the ball into the goal, and Steve realizes he’d forgotten how good he was at this game.

Bucky doesn’t seem to have noticed him sitting there, so Steve continues to just watch. When Bucky’s team calls a time out and they huddle together, Steve watches as Bucky pulls off his helmet and mask and lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. Steve’s gaze is inexplicably drawn to his best friend’s toned stomach, admiring the way sweat gleams off of his tanned muscles. Bucky’s nipples are dusky and pink, and his lips are red when he bites them in concentration. Steve continues to watch until the huddle breaks and the team goes back to their game.

He shifts his hips and – wait, what the fuck?

The realization that he’s just spent the last five minutes lusting after his male best friend hits him so hard that he jumps and falls backward off of the bench, landing painfully on his backpack. He’s pretty sure that’s his Geology textbook currently bruising his kidneys. He stays there for a moment, knees hooked over the bench as he marvels over his own clumsiness and the startling blue color of the sky. Anything to take his mind off of how fucking hot Bucky is.

It’s not like he never noticed it before. He knew Bucky was hot, gorgeous even. The general consensus around school is that Bucky is a total sexass, and most girls would do about anything to have a shot with him. (Steve always snickers at this, because Bucky? So gay.)

So it’s not like Steve didn’t know his best friend was smokin’, he’s just never looked at him, gotten half hard, and lumped himself in with all those girls that make goo-goo eyes at him. Until now, anyway.

Steve figures it’s about time to get up off of the ground, so he does. He leaves his backpack under the bench, dusts the grass off of the back of his pants, and watches Bucky. He feels jittery and nervous, and he’s about ready to do anything to break the tension.

Suddenly Bucky comes sprinting from across the field, stick up and eyes on the ball being passed to him. Steve reaches out and snags his fingers into the wires of Bucky’s facemask, intending to pull him aside. Instead, Bucky’s fast momentum causes Steve to surge forward as Bucky snaps back, and they both land in a heap on the grass. They roll slightly, and when they come to a stop Steve is on top of Bucky, their bodies flush together. In retrospect, this really wasn’t the best way to deal with the being half hard thing.

“Steve?” Bucky says once he gets his facemask and helmet off. He’s flushed, sweaty, and panting. “What the fuck, man?”

The ball goes sailing over them, rolling across the track and coming to a stop at the bottom of the bleachers. Bucky’s hands are gripping Steve’s biceps, his lacrosse stick resting across the small of Steve’s back. One of Steve’s hands is splayed on the grass next to Bucky’s head, and the other rests on one sweaty hip.

“Wrong sport, Rogers!” Coach Fury calls out from a few feet away. Steve looks over his shoulder at him and grins. “What the hell are you doing out here? You aren’t even in this class!”

Steve rolls his eyes and looks back down at Bucky, who has his jaw clenched and looks wildly uncomfortable. His hands slide slightly from Steve’s biceps to his chest, pushing slightly. One of Bucky’s teammates runs by to grab the runaway ball.

“Can you two fuck later? There’s a game going on!”

“It’s fucking gym class, asshole. Not the Olympics.” Steve gives him the finger and finally climbs off of Bucky, helping the other boy to his feet. They brush the grass off of themselves and Bucky looks up. He’s still breathing heavily and his sweaty hair sticks up in a million different directions. Steve clears his throat and grins sheepishly.

“What the hell, man?” Bucky says, watching a spot over Steve’s shoulder. Coach Fury, probably. “If he makes me run laps again I’m shoving this stick up your ass and laughing as you cry.”

“Dude, we need to talk about tonight,” Steve replies, ignoring the obscene threat and bouncing on his heels a little. Bucky’s eyes bug out in a most unbecoming way, and he lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Are you kidding me with this, Steve? It couldn’t wait until like, the hour and a half until school ends?”

“I ditched English and I was bored. Anyway, is Ben going to be in town tonight? Because I don’t know if Garrett is or not. I think he is, but I’m not sure.” Bucky isn’t paying any attention to him, and Steve has to snap his fingers in his face to get him to take his eyes off of the game. “Bucky! Ben?”

“I already fucking told you like eighteen times I wanted to go to Tony and Bruce’s party tonight,” Bucky says, eyes still on the game as he slaps Steve’s hand away from his face. “What makes you think Ben and Garrett wouldn’t be there? Everyone is going to be there. Except us, apparently,” he adds, glaring at Steve. “And Ben will tell us to fuck off if we ask him to buy us booze for a whole party. For us, yeah. But not for the entire fucking school.”

“But – “ Steve starts, but Bucky cuts him off with a wave and an annoyed expression. Bucky looks back over towards the action on the field, letting out a growl of frustration and throwing his arms out at a particularly bad move.

“Rogers,” Coach Fury yells, and Steve’s head jerks up. “Get the hell off of my field before I figure out what class you’re supposed to be in! We need Bucky out here.”

“Just go, Steve. I’ll see you later.” Bucky scoops up his helmet and puts it back on before tearing off towards the game excitedly. Steve’s shoulders slump slightly, and all he can think about is Bucky’s annoyed expression. Bucky will do anything Steve asks him to, including skipping awesome parties and stopping in the middle of playing his favorite sport, and the thought makes Steve feel slightly guilty.

He watches Bucky for one more long moment, admiring the way he moves fluidly across the field. He’s graceful in a way Steve wishes he could be. The weird knot in his stomach doesn’t go away, not even after he leaves the field.


	6. Chapter 6

The last period of the day for Bucky is Journalism. And it’s sort of pointless by now because the last issue of the paper has gone out and there is nothing left to do. Bucky spins idly in his computer chair, hands clasped loosely in his lap. The licorice rope is back out, hanging limply across his shoulders.

A girl in his class, Kristen, sits next to him, tiny legs folded under her in her chair as she talks his ear off. She smiles coyly and touches his arm, asking him if he’s going to the party tonight and batting her lashes flirtatiously. Bucky bites his lip and tries not to roll his eyes. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate all the attention, he does, but he can’t give these girls what they want, and no tall, blonde boys have come asking for it.

His cell phone buzzes in his pocket, and he jumps a little before extracting it. It’s Steve’s name on the display, one new text. He gives Kristen an apologetic smile and flips his phone open.

Sry 4 interrupting yr game earlier. :(

Bucky feels his heart thump in his chest, and he grins widely. He’d been irritated with Steve earlier, but as he showered off the dirt and sweat after gym, he realized it was just misplaced frustration.

Everything is changing. Lacrosse had been something he loved, and it’s over. High school is ending, and he has no idea which direction his life is going. He’s heading for uncharted waters, and he’s freaking out just a little.

And Steve was just being Steve, all exuberance and puppy dog eyes. When he gets excited about something it’s all he can think about. Bucky has always admired that and wishes he could be as free with his emotions. He doesn’t like that Steve is sitting in Photo, moping. Plus, Steve is the only one that can send a sad face via text message and not come across as a total dork.

“I gotta go, Kay.” He gets up and grabs his bag. “I’ll see you tonight, yeah?” Kristen looks slightly disappointed but smiles brightly at him, and he pats her shoulder as he walks away. “Hey Mr. Lee, I’m gonna go see what’s going on in Coulson’s class. Is that cool?”

The grizzly old Journalism teacher barely looks up from his magazine, but his lips curve into a knowing smile. “Sure thing. Say hi to Steve for me.”

Bucky grins and traipses out of the room. With a move like that, he can’t believe anyone thinks he’s straight.

Coulson teaches Photo three doors down in the visual arts building. Steve loves Photo class. Bucky remembers back in sophomore year when Coulson taught them how to make a pinhole camera out of a soda can. Steve became obsessed with them. All the crappy pictures are still pressed in his sophomore yearbook. A few of them linger on Bucky’s corkboard in his room, black and white distorted images of trees, water fountains, and one of Bucky himself, his face twisted into an expression of fond exasperation.

The classroom is loud and raucous, full of energy. That’s pretty much the usual with Coulson’s classes. He doesn’t give a shit what anyone does, as long as they turn in their projects on time. He missed it a lot when he moved on to Journalism, but he usually gets paired up with Steve on assignments for the paper. Well, got paired up. The graduation issue is out at the presses, and school is coming to a close. Bucky ignores the pang in his chest and saunters into Coulson’s classroom.

Steve is sitting at the computer station, his long, long legs hooked around a stool. He’s leaning forward, gesturing wildly to someone on the other side of the round table. His shirt has ridden up to reveal the small dimples at the base of his spine, tan skin stretched over lean muscle.

Steve is talking to Allie, who spots him sneaking up behind Steve and wrapping the licorice rope around his hands. He holds one finger up to his lips and she smiles, biting her lip to keep from laughing as Bucky pounces. He wraps the length of rope around Steve’s neck and jerks him backward. He yelps and jumps off of the stool, slipping and falling backwards into Bucky. He has to throw his arm around Steve’s waist to keep them both from falling, and Steve whips around to face him. Steve lets out a booming laugh and wraps his arms around Bucky in a tight bear hug.

“What’s up, man?” Steve grins, and Bucky pulls back to pat his shoulders.

“Had to get out of there. Kristen had her sights set, dude.” He gives a theatrical shudder, and Steve pushes him away.

“Since you’re wasting all your sexual prowess on bein’ gay and all, you could pass it on over to me,” Steve says slyly, and Bucky grins. “I’d put it to good use.”

“It’d take a lot more than my second-hand sexual prowess to get you laid, Rogers.”

“Hell, maybe I’ll just have you do the honors. Kill two birds with one stone.”

Steve grins, and thankfully the bell chooses that moment to ring because Steve heads off to grab his bag and misses the way Bucky chokes on his sharp intake of air. He manages a bemused expression by the time Steve returns, like Steve’s comment was stupid, like that isn’t exactly what he wants more than anything.


	7. Chapter 7

Sam catches up with them on their way out to the parking lot, bouncing excitedly. He furrows his brow when they turn instead towards the staff parking lot.

“Ha!” Steve exclaims once his beaten up truck comes into view. “Told you it would still be here.”

Bucky bites his thumbnail, looking up at Steve’s flushed and happy face through his fringe of lashes. Bucky thinks he’s subtle, but he’s really not. At least not to Sam.

Sam can see the way Bucky looks at Steve, like Steve is the epicenter of sunshine and rainbows and fluffy, yappy puppies. Sort of like Steve is everything.

Sam can see this, clear as day. Bucky is in love with Steve, plain and simple. It sort of makes Sam sad, because he also sees the other way Bucky looks at Steve. His eyes get sad, his expression pained like he realizes his feelings are hopeless, like his dreaming will get him nowhere.

But Sam, he also sees the way Steve looks at Bucky sometimes. Sort of like Bucky is the epicenter of sunshine and rainbows, but he hasn’t quite realized it yet.

They just keep missing each other’s glances, and Sam hopes it doesn’t go on forever.

“What is this?” Steve shrieks, pulling Sam from his thoughts. Steve plucks a pink piece of paper out from under his windshield. It’s a ticket, and Bucky throws his head back laughing. He laughs with his whole body, eyes crinkling slightly and shining with mirth. Sam looks over to Steve, noticing the way Steve watches him with such open fondness. It’s no wonder half the school thinks they’re fucking.

By the time Bucky turns back to Steve with a “fucking told you, asshole”, Steve’s expression has been replaced with an annoyed one.

Sam sort of wants to smack them both - they’re so retarded.

“Dude, I gotta go to work,” Sam says, bringing his hand down on Steve’s shoulder. “Meet me after my shift, and we’ll go get that booze, yeah?”

“Sure,” Steve says dismissively, waving his hand. Sam rolls his eyes and walks off. Steve doesn’t believe he can do it, but that’s okay, because Steve and Bucky sort of only believe in each other.


	8. Chapter 8

“Dude, could you be more tiny?” Steve asks. He strips off another one of Bucky’s shirts and tosses it on the growing pile on the desk. Bucky plays Guitar Hero like he’s going for a fucking Grammy; just to avoid looking at Steve’s bare torso.

“Hey, I’m normal sized. You’re the buff freak,” Bucky retorts, wrist cramping as he blows through Hail to the Freaks on expert for the third time in a row. Steve huffs and flicks through Bucky’s shirts. “Why don’t you just go home and wear your own clothes?”

“No fucking way. My parents are getting ready to leave for their trip, and like, my mom thinks the house has to be spotless before she leaves for any period of time. Like if they die in some fiery car crash everyone will see her house and like, the one dirty dish in the sink and think she was a horrible person or something.” Steve turns, his bare torso displayed in all its tanned and beefy glory. It’s not fair really. Steve was tiny as hell no less than four years ago. All these defined muscles just appeared from nowhere and gave Bucky no time to prepare. Bucky flinches as he misses a series of notes during the chorus, and Steve ducks back into the closet. “You know if I go home my mom will make me, like, clean and shit.”

“Heaven forbid,” Bucky says dryly, flipping down the song list until he gets to Freebird. His wrists throb in protest. “Why don’t you just wear what you’re wearing now?”

“I can’t wear what I wore to school,” Steve replies, and Bucky can see his clothes flying to the floor in his peripheral vision. He has to pause his game as Steve steps in front of the television. Bucky looks up with an annoyed huff. This really isn’t fair. “Bucky, you look amazing. Please help me?”

“What is this, queer eye for the fucking loser?” His cheeks flush from the praise and he looks down, picking at the hem of his shirt. He’s wearing a dark blue button down, sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, and a pair of dark jeans that stretch tight in all the right places.

“C’mon, buck,” Steve pleads, breaking out the puppy dog gaze. “Your gay-fu is strong. Help me.”

“You’re such a dork,” Bucky says, but he gets up anyway. Steve’s shit litters his room, like he half lives there, which is sort of true. Bucky goes through a small pile of clothes that rest on top of his dresser and throws a pair of faded, vintage jeans at Steve. “Those are yours. You left them here a while back, and my mom washed them.”

“Awesome,” Steve says and kicks the pants he’s wearing off without preamble. Bucky’s eyes bug out as Steve stands in the middle of his bedroom, clad only in a pair of black boxer briefs. His tan, buff legs go on for miles, and Bucky blushes as he imagines them wrapped tightly around his body.

“Uh – shirt. Something simple, because I doubt any of my button downs will fit you.” He flips through his closet and eventually settles on a soft black v-neck sweater. It hangs sort of loose on Bucky, and he curses himself as he tosses it to Steve. He pulls it on quickly, and just as Bucky suspected, it clings to Steve in an almost obscene way. Bucky suppresses a growl.

The door to Bucky’s room slams open as Steve pushes the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. Becca comes into the room and throws herself onto Bucky’s bed. She never comes into Bucky’s room unless Steve is there, so Bucky has the customary moment of panic where he tries to remember if he left gay porn or lube or used tissues lying around. The area looks clean – well, clean of that - and Bucky sighs in relief.

“Steve, you look so hot,” she coos, flipping her hair over one shoulder. Steve grins and sits on the edge of the bed to put on his socks. He looks over his shoulder at her, giving her a wide smile.

“You have a poster of Zac Efron on your wall, baby,” Steve laughs, throwing her a wink. “I’m not sure I should trust your judgment.”

“Quit calling my sister baby, you fuckin’ pedophile.” Bucky smacks Steve again and then settles back in to play some more Guitar Hero. He sort of thinks Zac Efron is a little bit hot too, but there’s no way he’s telling Steve.

“I’m only two years younger than you guys,” Becca replies, crawling across the bed to touch Steve’s hair. “Steve, you should totally let me do your hair. It would be like, so hot.”

“Uh – no. That’s alright,” Steve laughs, lacing up his shoes. Becca pouts and tangles her fingers in Steve’s unruly mop.

“You have to. It will look so good, right Bucky? Put some product in, spike it up a bit.” Bucky just waves one hand noncommittally. If his sister wants to gay up Steve and make him look like an idiot that’s fine by him. Steve eyes Becca wearily, and then finally relents.

“I’ll be back after my extreme makeover,” Steve sighs, and Bucky smirks as they leave the room. He uses the time to finish getting ready to go, fixing his hair and putting on his cologne.

He plays a few more songs on Guitar Hero and realizes he needs to stop if he wants to have any mobility in his wrists by the end of the night. After a while, Bucky twists the lid off of his water bottle and takes a drink. Steve chooses that moment to come back into the room, head ducked shyly, and Bucky almost chokes on his water.

“Shit,” Bucky says, and Steve looks up with blushing cheeks. His silky blonde hair is pushed out of his face in the most tasteful way.

“Does it look stupid?” Steve tucks a few pieces behind his ears, letting some of the blonde strands fall in front of his right eye. It looks far from stupid, actually. He looks gorgeous.

“It looks fine,” Bucky says instead, clearing his throat and screwing the cap back onto his bottle to have something to do with his hands other than running them through Steve’s hair. “Can we go?”

“Uh – yeah. If you’re sure it looks alright.”

“It’s fine,” Bucky says again, checking the time on his cell. “We gotta jet if we’re gonna meet Sam when his shift ends. Let’s go.”


	9. Chapter 9

They pull up in front of Jolly Market a little after six. Sam is leaning against the wall, taking a drag off of a cigarette. Bucky scrambles out of the truck as soon as Steve puts it in park and sidles up next to Sam.

“Gimme one,” Bucky says, and Sam rolls his eyes as he passes a smoke over to Bucky, who sighs gratefully and lights up. Steve marches up to them, big hands on slim hips.

“I’m not going to visit either one of you in the hospital when you’re dying of lung cancer,” Steve says haughtily, and Bucky and Sam roll their eyes and exhale at the same time.

“We’re not going to visit you when you give yourself brain damage from falling down too many times then, you gigantic loser,” Sam says, and Bucky chokes on a laugh. “And what the fuck did you do to your hair? You look like a Backstreet Boy.”

“Whatever,” Steve snaps back. “Let’s go watch your lame ass get kicked out of the liquor store.”

“It’ll totally work,” Sam says, stubbing his cigarette out on the bricks behind him. 

Steve shakes his head and puts up a hand. “Bucky, give him the list.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” Bucky mumbles around his cigarette filter as he pulls a crumpled up piece of notebook paper from his front left pocket. “Just for the record.”

Sam snatches the piece of paper from Bucky’s hand and looks it over. “This is a shitload of booze, Steve.”

“Uh, I’m sorry. Isn’t that kind of the point?” Steve says sarcastically as he pushes Sam towards the store. He pulls a wad of cash from the front pocket of his jeans. “Here’s a hundred. Make it count. Now just go in there and fucking do it!”

“Alright!” Sam yells after grabbing the cash. “Let go of me, you handsy bastard.”

Sam rolls his shoulders back and heads for the liquor store while Steve and Bucky casually loiter against the brick wall of the donut shop next door.

“Oh, dude. That drug store has the kind of lube I like and I’m almost out,” Bucky says after a minute or two, slapping Steve on the chest and heading towards the street. “Let’s go.”

“Why do you need lube, you virgin?” Steve asks, looking both ways before stepping out into the middle of the street. Bucky gives him a pointed look and then makes a loose circle with his fist. Steve rolls his eyes and punches him in the shoulder.

“Why can’t you just jerk off with whatever lotion you can find like every other guy on the planet?”

“Because like, it’s different,” Bucky says. “I’m much more thorough, and like – wait, I’m not going to go into detail about this with you.” Particularly because Steve has frequently been the star of the show during his late night jerk off sessions. Thinking of Steve never fails to get him off hard and fast, leaving him panting, cheeks flushed with arousal and shame. He doesn’t know if it’s because it’s so forbidden, or if Steve is really just that hot. It’s probably both. “Now shut up and let me buy my lube.”

“Whatever, you princess. I jerk with Jergen’s and I like it.” The bell above the door jingles to punctuate that profound statement, and the cashier gives Steve a scandalized look.

Steve has the decency to blush, and Bucky snickers to himself as he traipses down aisle four - family planning. After wrinkling his nose at the pregnancy tests and yeast infection creams (thank god he’ll never have to deal with that), he grabs his lube. He looks up and down the aisle before reaching out to snag a three pack of condoms, although he isn't sure what prompts him to do so.

He meanders back up to the counter and puts his purchases down along with a Dr. Pepper and a cherry Tootsie Pop.

“Why are you getting condoms?” Steve asks, loud and obnoxious, from right behind Bucky. He gives the cashier an apologetic smile.

“You never know what the night may bring,” Bucky says mischievously, knowing full well that they’ll probably sit in his sock drawer until he dies a lonely virgin.

“You’re right,” Steve says thoughtfully. “Give me one.”

“No,” Bucky replies as he accepts his change and grabs his bag. “Get your own.”

“There’s three condoms in there!” Steve shrieks. “What, you’re going to go from being a loser virgin to a super slut in one night? Give me a damn condom!”

“Get your own!”

“I’ve got an idea!” The cashier calls out, looking both annoyed and amused. “Why don’t you just use them to fuck each other, and get the hell out of my store!”

Steve and Bucky both freeze, heads turning to look at the middle-aged woman. They crack up at the Same time, laughing hysterically as they leave the store.

The laughter dies, however, when they look across the street and see a police car parked in front of the liquor store.

“What is that?” Bucky asks, swallowing hard.

“That is Sam being well and truly fucked,” replies Steve. “Without your six dollar lube.”

“What do we do?” Bucky asks, staring in wide-eyed horror at the sight before him. He squints, trying to see into the store, but the posters and advertisements covering the windows make that difficult.

“We flee,” Steve states, tucking tail and turning to run away. Bucky reaches out and snags the back of his shirt, holding him in place even as Steve struggles.

“But what about Sam? We can’t just leave him!”

“And why not?” Steve shrieks, twisting around until Bucky lets go of him. “There’s nothing we can do for him, buck. He’s a dead man!”

“Steve, calm the fuck down,” replies Bucky. “They probably won’t arrest him. They’ll just take the ID and let him go with a warning.”

“And call his parents! And they’ll call our parents! And fuck that, I’m not going down for Sam. Let’s go,” Steve cries, reaching out to grab Bucky’s arm. “He can call us when they let him go. If they let him go.”

Bucky sighs and stumbles after Steve, giving the liquor store one last glance over his shoulder.

“So what now?” Bucky asks as he gets into Steve’s truck and buckles up. Steve puts his hands on the steering wheel and hits them with his forehead a few times, ever the drama queen. Then, he sits up and turns the key in the ignition.

“We go to Tony and Bruce’s and harass our brothers.” Steve turns to grin at Bucky, and Bucky just glares back.

“I still think it’s fucked up,” Bucky says, “leaving Sam.”

“Buck,” Steve replies, “Sam will be fine.”


	10. Chapter 10

Sam is not exactly fine.

He’s nervous and sort of freaking out, reaching out to grab a bottle of Smirnoff when it happens.

“Stop right there!” Two voices call out in unison, and Sam freezes. When he slowly looks over his shoulder, he sees two police officers, hands on their guns. Sam nearly drops the vodka and squeezes his eyes shut. He is going to kill Steve.

He’s about to take a deep breath and face his fate, when another two voices startle him again. The vodka slips from his fingers and he manages to grab it before it crashes to the floor.

“What are you guys doing here?” A guy shouts from the other side of him, and Sam turns to see him and a tall, dark-haired guy both giving the cops the finger. Sam closes his eyes for a second and tries to shuffle out of the line of fire without being seen.

He’s waiting for these assholes to get shot or arrested, all the while trying to figure out how to get through the door without being stopped.

“You’re supposed to be out protecting and serving our fine little community,” the shorter guy says, “and instead you’re lurking in a liquor store.”

“Fuck you,” one of the cops laughs. “I will not hesitate to beat you with my nightstick .”

“I’d like to see you try,” the taller guy with the dark hair says, and they all start laughing. They shake hands and pat each other on the back, and Sam is pretty confused. He gets a better look at the two younger guys and realizes that he knows them, sort of. Their names are Clint and Scott, and they are good friends with Steve and Bucky’s brothers. He stands there, watching their strange interaction for far too long, apparently. One of the cops turns to look at him, raising an eyebrow at his panicked expression and the bottle of vodka in his hand.

“Hey kid,” the cop says, suddenly businesslike. “You got ID?”

“Um...” Sam starts, glancing towards Clint and Scott. They glance at one another and Clint walks over to him, slinging his arm around his shoulders.

“He’s with us,” Clint says, giving Sam’s shoulders a squeeze. Sam swallows hard and nods.

“Like an errand boy,” Scott adds, and Sam is so nervous that he just nods again. The cops chuckle and pat Clint and Scott on the shoulders. One of them even winks at Sam.

“Alright. We’re just in here for some road beers anyway,” the cop says. His partner chuckles and turns to follow him towards the back of the store. “You kids keep your shit together tonight. I don’t feel like arresting anybody.”

“I feel really safe in their hands,” Clint sighs, pulling Sam towards him. He finally looks at Sam, brow knitted. “Where do I know you from?”

“Uh, Ben and Garrett?” Sam squeaks. “I’m, uh, good friends with their brothers. They’re waiting outside for me.”

“Oh,” Scott says. “Steve and Bucky. Those crazy kids probably turned tail and ran at the first sign of flashing lights.” Sam immediately turns towards the windows, squinting angrily at the vacant parking space where Steve’s truck was.

“Son of a bitch!” Sam yells, fuming. Clint and Scott laugh. Sam can’t really blame them, though. He would have done the Same thing. He huffs and turns back to Clint and Scott. “So are you guys like, friends with those cops?”

“Pierce and Zola?” Clint asks, and he and Scott share a laugh. “You could say that.”

“We uh, went on a ride along with them once,” Scott adds.

“Best night of our lives.” Clint grins at Scott and then turns towards Sam. “You’re no doubt trying to get some liquor for some underage high school party, right?” Clint asks, and Sam nods.

“No problem,” Scott says. “Get your booze. We’ll get you to the party.”

“Sweet,” Sam says, beaming as he grabs another bottle. The cashier doesn’t even card him, and he leaves the store with Clint and Scott, arms laden with a huge bag of booze.


	11. Chapter 11

When Steve and Bucky pull up to Tony and Bruce’s, the place is already packed. Steve has to park his truck down the block, and they walk up to the house together. This is where Bucky wanted to be tonight, and he gives Steve a surly look. Steve gives him a guilty little smile and Bucky rolls his eyes.

They spot Garrett’s car as they make their way through the crowded front yard and push themselves through the open door. The place is crawling with people, and Tony and Bruce have all their equipment set up on a tiny makeshift stage in the corner of the giant living room. They’re fumbling with microphone stands and amplifiers in a way that lets Bucky know they’ve already knocked back a few this evening. Even if they are drunk, the music will still be awesome. Well, it would be, if they were staying.

Walking into Tony and Bruce’s house is sort of like walking into San Francisco in the 60’s. It’s all peace, love, and happiness. The weed flows as free as the beer and no one cares who’s making out with whom in the corners. You can kick back and relax in a place where no one will judge you. Tony and Bruce’s is a place to have fun and be yourself, plain and simple. Bucky really digs that.

They both take a shot or two, just to get the night started. Steve gets up on his tiptoes to try and spot either one of their brothers in the sea of people, but to no avail. He purses his lips and scans the crowd while Bucky watches Tony and Bruce pull on their guitars.

A short burst of feedback blares through the room and the crowd hushes almost instantly as Tony steps up to the microphone. “Okay, we’re back after our much-needed break,” Tony says, toasting the crowd with a bottle of Corona. “It’s time to keep it goin’.”

Bruce steps up next to Tony, whispering something in his ear and pointing into the crowd. Bucky gulps as Tony’s gaze lands sharply on him and he grins.

“Look who’s here,” Tony says into the Clint. “Ben’s little brother! Get up here, man.” Bucky rolls his eyes. Tony and Bruce are some of his best friends, and they damn well know Bucky’s name and how much he hates that Ben’s little brother shit. Bucky just shakes his head. “C’mon now! Benji’s little brother is a great singer. Get up here and sing with us!”

Before Bucky can protest again, he’s flanked on either side as two guys grab his arms and drag him towards the stage. A quick glance side to side confirms his suspicions, telling him that his attackers are none other than Ben and Garrett.

“Let me go, you assholes!” He yells, but they just laugh. He hears Steve cackle from somewhere behind him, obviously making his way through the crowd as well.

“Sing, little brother.” Ben gives him a wicked grin as he and his best friend push him onto the little stage. Tony and Bruce smile and clap him on the shoulders, and then Tony drags him over to his mic while Bruce steps up to his own. Tony reaches over and plucks a shot glass of tequila from a barstool in the corner and hands it over. Bucky wordlessly slams it back and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Seriously now, y’all,” Tony says, keeping his arm looped around Bucky’s shoulder. “This here is Bucky. He’s a good friend and a mighty fine singer, so let’s give it up.” A smattering of applause fills the room and Tony turns to grin at Bucky.

Thing is, Bucky and Tony have made out. Like, a lot. Tony isn’t gay, not really, but after a few beers and a good show, he’ll make out with pretty much anyone pretty and willing. And Bucky? He’s pretty much always willing. It’s not that he has feelings for Tony, he doesn’t. But Bucky can’t deny that the guy is hot and making out is really fun.

Tony finally removes his arm from Bucky’s shoulder and places his hands reverently on his guitar. He shares a look with Bruce, and they both nod before starting to play. Bucky recognizes the notes immediately, and it instantly sets adrenaline running through his veins. He spots Steve giving him two thumbs up from near the front of the crowd, and Bucky flashes a grin before leaning in, sharing Tony’s mic and singing the first words right along with him.

”It’s been a long time since I wore this rattlesnake smile. I know my friends haven’t seen it in quite a while.”


	12. Chapter 12

Steve has seen and heard Bucky sing plenty of times. He’s usually pretty shy about it, but Bucky has never really been shy around Steve. He assumes it’s because he’s been around Bucky since birth. He’s always been a constant fixture in his life. Besides, it’s kind of hard to be shy around someone after your mom dunks you in a bathtub with them as a toddler.

Steve has even seen Bucky sing with Tony and Bruce before, but tonight is different somehow. Bucky is really into it, leaning in and battling Tony for dominance over lead vocals, when usually he’s content to do backup. He’s putting everything into it, like he’s got something to prove.

It’s not long before sweat beads on Bucky’s skin, tiny little beads of moisture on his hairline and neck, and Steve finds himself watching the way Bucky’s cheeks get flushed and the way his mouth moves as he sings. Boy’s lips are fucking obscene, and Steve finds himself licking his own subconsciously.

Tony eventually steps away from the mic and Bucky winks at him, wrapping his long fingers around the stand before taking over the song on his own. During the bridge, when it’s all guitars and no lyrics, Bucky takes a step back and grins. He’s flushed and sweaty, lips shining. Tony takes a step over to him and nudges Bucky with his shoulder as he plays. Bucky looks over at him and Tony leans in, lips parted and shiny as he kisses Bucky, right there in front of everybody, right up there on the fucking stage.

Bucky’s body stiffens at first, and then he leans into Tony, reaching up to grab the back of Tony’s neck as they kiss sloppily. The crowd cheers, Garrett wolf whistles, Ben shakes his head, and Steve feels slightly sick to his stomach.

His eyes stay glued to the kiss, like a train wreck or a fatal car crash. Bucky’s pink tongue plunges into Tony’s mouth and Steve swallows hard. He doesn’t like that Tony is kissing Bucky. He doesn’t like it at all.

When he realizes that the feeling he’s currently experiencing is jealousy, he takes a few stumbling steps backwards. He wants to know what it would feel like to have Bucky kissing him, to have Bucky all soft and pliable underneath him. He wants to go up there and punch Tony in the face. It’s a shame because he usually really likes the guy.

Bucky bites down on Tony’s bottom lip and fucking tugs. Tony fumbles over a few notes and they pull apart, gasping into each other’s mouths.

They pull apart in time for Bucky to pick back up on the vocals, his voice slightly raw and breathless. Steve stands there motionless, eyes locked on Bucky as he sings.

”Now come over here and give me a kiss,” Bucky sings, and Steve swears that Bucky’s eyes flicker over to him before he hams it up, puckering his swollen lips at the crowd.

And thing is, Steve sort of wants to. He wants to grab Bucky and pull him into a dark room. He wants to find out what those plush lips feel like under his, what that freckled skin tastes like. Steve’s pulse pounds in his ears and he takes a few stumbling steps back.

When the song ends, Steve barely notices. He watches Bucky like he’s watching a dream, foggy and disconnected.

“Damn.” Tony’s voice registers, but Steve doesn’t look at him. “Who the hell are you singing for?”

Bucky’s gaze lands on Steve, his skin tinged pink as he sneaks a peek at him from under his girly eyelashes. The look is gone before Steve even realizes what it might mean, and he takes another step back into the crowd. They start up a new song, Spirit Boy, and Steve can’t breathe.

Steve isn’t big on epiphanies. He’s the kind of person that lets the chips fall where they may. There have been times when he finds himself in a situation without the knowledge of how he actually got there, and that’s usually okay with him. But right here, right now, he knows what an epiphany feels like.

He wants Bucky. He wants Bucky. He wants his gay best friend, wants to kiss him and touch him. It’s too much to process, considering he spent the majority of Home Economics earlier in the day thinking about what Natasha’s tits might feel like under his palms. This could fuck everything up, and when a soft feminine hand grips his arms and turns him around, he’s glad for the distraction.

“Wanna dance?” The girl is tiny, short and tan with long dark brown hair. She’s got huge tits and a tiny waist, and Steve finds himself nodding before he even really processes the question. She drags him away from the crowd, away from Bucky, and lifts herself up on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. He dances with her, his hands curling around her curving hips. Another body comes up behind him, and a strong, masculine chest presses against his back. He looks down to see male hands on his hips and he swallows. The shots he threw back when he got here are warm in his belly, fucking up his head along with all his conflicted emotions.

He’d almost forgotten Tony and Bruce’s no questions asked, anything goes rules when it comes to partying. He figures fuck it, and leans back against the guy’s chest. The girl’s eyes light up and her fingers tangle in his hair, pulling his head down. Before he knows it, they’re kissing. Her tongue is soft and insistent in his mouth, and one of the guy’s hands is rubbing circles on his stomach. He doesn’t even realize that he can’t hear Bucky’s voice anymore or that the song is different. All that matters is that right now he’s distracted from being so damn confused.

When the girl pulls away from his mouth, his undulating hips stutter to a stop when he sees Bucky over her shoulder, watching them from several feet away. It’s hard to tell due to the distance and the smoky air, but Bucky looks hurt. His eyes are glassy and his lips are pressed into a firm line, and when he realizes Steve is watching him he turns. Steve watches him make his way through the crowd and to the front door. Both his dance partners are holding onto him, kissing his neck, when all he really wants to do is follow Bucky.

“Mind if I cut in?” Garrett’s voice startles him, and his brows furrow as his brother grabs his wrist and yanks him forcefully away from his dancing partners. After a few confusing moments of thinking Garrett actually wants to dance with him, he finds himself being dragged into an empty bedroom.

“What the hell?” Steve demands, wrenching his wrist free from Garrett’s grasp. His big brother looks at him with something like disappointment in his eyes, and then he pushes his hair back from his face.

“Look, Steve. I get that his feelings aren’t mutual, but do you have to be so damn insensitive?” Garrett actually looks a little pissed, and Steve shakes his head, like that’ll make him suddenly understand what the fuck his brother is getting at.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I could feel Bucky aching from where I was standing, Steve. I just don’t see why you had to do that in front of him.” Steve blinks, and then finally understands. Garrett is pissed at him for dancing like he was, for making out with that girl. But why?

“I don’t get what the problem is. Bucky was making out with Tony up on a fucking stage, but that’s okay?”

“That’s completely – wait. Why do you care who Bucky was kissing?” Garrett replies, and Steve throws his arms out to the side in frustration. Fuck if he’s telling his big brother that he was jealous.

“I don’t. Why would Bucky give a shit who I dance with?” Steve is honestly confused, and Garrett’s hardened glare softens after a moment, his brow crinkling in confusion.

“So – you really have no idea?” Garrett says, and then takes a fidgety step backwards. Steve stamps his foot against the threadbare carpet.

“I have no idea what this entire fucking conversation is about, Garrett. Care to enlighten me?”

“Bucky is upset,” Garrett says instead, taking a step towards the door. “Maybe – I think you should go talk to him. Maybe listen to what he’s trying to tell you.” At that, Garrett opens the door and steps out, letting light, smoke and dirty country music come flooding into the room. Steve blinks, and takes a step to follow his brother, to force him to knock it off with the cryptic shit and tell him what the fuck is going on. But the words Bucky is upset take over his mind, and suddenly his number one priority is to make those words untrue.


	13. Chapter 13

The air outside is slightly cool, but still muggy and heavy. Bucky isn’t anywhere near Steve’s truck, so he takes off on foot, jogging in the direction of Bucky’s house. It’s not long before he spots Bucky up ahead, head and shoulders slumped and hands buried deep into his pockets. Steve’s heart gives a small twinge, and he jogs to catch up with him.

“Buck! Why’d you bail on me, dude?” He says, breathless, and reaches out to grab Bucky’s elbow. He wasn’t expecting to see Bucky’s eyes all puffy and red, like he just got done crying or is trying really hard not to. Bucky never cries. The last time that Steve knew of was two years earlier, when his great-grandmother died and Steve held him, letting him cry himself dry into Steve’s chest. “What’s wrong?”

Bucky’s eyes dart around Steve like he’s looking for an escape. He takes a step back and wraps his arms around himself. Steve takes a step forward and places his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, his thumb skirting up the side of his neck. “Talk to me.”

“Stop.” Bucky reaches up to pull Steve’s hand away, thumb pressing into his pulse point briefly before letting go. Eyes trained on the ground, he speaks softly. “I can’t – I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“What are you talking about, Buck?” Panic bubbles up in Steve’s chest at those words, at the broken look in Bucky’s eyes. Fix it, his brain supplies. Whatever the fuck you did to hurt him, fucking fix it.

Thing is, Steve has no clue what he did. He doesn’t realize his hands are shaking until he reaches out to touch Bucky’s arm, and he visibly flinches when Bucky takes a step back to dodge it.

“This,” Bucky says, gesturing to the empty space around them like that answers the question. “Helping you on your never ending quest to get into Natasha’s pants, spending every waking second with you. I can’t do it anymore.” He takes a step back then, even further away, eyes wide like he’s surprised at what he said. Steve is just sick of being so damn confused.

“Are you breaking up with me?” He asks weakly, trying to ease the tension. Bucky gets a wounded look on his face, all deep and sorrowful. “Bucky,” he says, taking a step forward and turning so he’s standing on the edge of the curb, the dark street to his back. “What is this about?” When Bucky doesn’t answer, he tries a different approach. “C’mon man, let’s just go to Natasha’s party and relax.”

Bucky pins him with a fierce glare, eyes going dark and angry instead of sad, and Steve knows he just said the wrong thing. Big time.

“You don’t even get it, do you?” Bucky takes a step forward, his voice rising. Steve blinks because really, he honestly doesn’t. He gets that he’s missing something. He just doesn’t get what it is.

“I obviously don’t, Bucky. So why don’t you explain it to me?” He raises his voice right back because frankly, he’s tired of this shit. He’s confused and tired and just drunk enough for it to be unpleasant, his face burning and his stomach rolling slightly.

“I’m in love with you, asshole!” Bucky cries, and Steve takes a surprised, staggering step back. “I love you. I want you. I actually care about you, and you don’t even give a shit. It’s all about chasing after Natasha, and you can never see what’s right in front of you. It just really hurts to know I can never be what you want and I’m sick of dealing with it. I’m done.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say. How do you react when your best friend tells you he’s in love with you? Part of Steve thinks he should be happy. After all, was he not just thinking about how much he’d like to kiss Bucky back at the party? But the other part of him is telling him no, this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. The smart thing to do here would be to go somewhere quiet and talk this out.

Thing is, Steve never claimed to be the smart one.

“So if I don’t return your big gay crush on me, we can’t be friends anymore? That isn’t fucking fair, Bucky.” He’s going for venomous, but it comes out sounding sort of pathetic and hurt. Bucky takes a deep breath and steps up to Steve, raising his shaky hands to Steve’s face.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Bucky mumbles, and his voice is thick with unshed tears. Steve stands stock still while Bucky’s nimble fingers slide across his eyebrows and down his cheeks, and he lets out a startled gasp when Bucky kisses him. It’s pleading and desperate, Bucky’s full lips press up against his unresponsive ones, and Bucky’s fingers tangle in his straightened hair.

“Buck – “ Steve pulls back when what he really wants to do is kiss him back, bite at that fleshy bottom lip. Bucky nods, hands sliding down to Steve’s shoulders. He presses his forehead against Steve’s chin and Steve swallows, his fists clenched at his sides.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time,” Bucky confesses. “And now I’m going to lose you.”

Steve pulls back at that, the words startling him. He can’t even imagine his life without Bucky. His chest aches just thinking about it, and he shakes his head. A tear slips down Bucky’s cheek and he curses himself, wiping it away furiously.

“Bucky – I.” Steve sighs and takes a few steps backward, looking at Bucky. His eyes are big and bright green, sorrowful like he’s already mourning the loss of their friendship. He doesn’t know what to say or how to make it better, so instead, he sighs, stumbling backward off of the curb.

It’s that moment that something connects with Steve’s hip. Hard. It swings his feet out from under him and he vaguely registers that it’s a hood he’s currently rolling across before he falls off of it. He lands hard on the pavement, managing to keep from cracking his head on it.

After shaking the stars from his eyes and internally checking for broken bones, he realizes that he’s fine, aside from a bruising ache on his hip.

“Holy shit!” Steve looks up to see a familiar face leaning over the door of a Prius. It’s Garrett’s friend Clint, the crazy motherfucker, and Steve’s groan has nothing to do with pain. Clint is staring at him like he’s trying to decide if he’s okay before he busts up laughing.

Steve pushes himself up to his elbows and flicks his gaze towards Bucky. His friend is breathing heavily, eyes wide with panic. Once he sees that Steve is okay, relief flashes across his face. He finally settles on looking wildly uncomfortable, and Steve knows their important moment has been ruined.

“I just got hit by a fucking Prius,” Steve says, letting his head drop back to look up at the stars. “That is such a blow to my dignity.”

“Don’t knock my car. I’m environmentally friendly and shit,” Clint says, leaning heavily on the door to his car. “And why were you in the middle of the street, douchebag?”

“Hey Steve,” Scott says, stepping out of the passenger side door. “Fancy meeting you here. And what Clint means to say is he’s sorry he almost killed you,” Scott says, glaring at Clint.

“Are you going to live?” A third voice calls out, and Sam climbs out of the back of the car. “Please say you’re okay. I want to start laughing.”

“Sam?” Steve says, pulling himself into a sitting position. He really is fine. Clint was probably going eight miles an hour when he got hit, and knowing Clint, he probably saw Steve in the street and hit him on purpose. Just for laughs. Clint is that kind of guy. “I thought you got arrested?”

“I didn’t. And thanks for leaving me!” He pulls something from the brown bag in his hands and throws it hard. Steve has no time to react before a lemon hits him square in the chest, knocking the wind out of him. “I got the booze. Let’s go!”

Steve rubs at the spot on his chest and looks over at Bucky, who gives him a wistful smile paired with the saddest eyes Steve has ever seen. After a moment, his features harden and he looks over at Sam.

“I’m bowing out, guys. Have fun.” Bucky juts his chin out and Sam gives him a sympathetic smile. Steve watches as Bucky walks away, head down and hands deep in his pockets, and he knows he should follow. Instead, he gets up and dusts the dirt off of the back of his jeans.

“Let’s do this,” Clint says, slinging his arm around Steve’s shoulder. He climbs in the backseat with Sam, who gives him a disappointed look and shakes his head.

“I hope you know I think you’re a complete fucking idiot,” Sam says pointedly, “and not because you got hit by a car.”

Sam doesn’t say a single word to him for the rest of the ride to the party. When they arrive, Sam just thrusts the bag of alcohol into his arms and says, “I hope she’s worth it.” Clint and Scott take off for Tony and Bruce’s, and Sam disappears into the house.

Steve stands there, staring dejectedly at his shoes before someone calls his name.

The party is in full swing by the time Steve gets dragged inside by Brock Rumlow. Brock is a jock, and sort of a dick, and Steve doesn’t think they’ve had a conversation since they were ten. But apparently the booze in his hands makes them friends or something, and Steve wrinkles his nose as he’s pulled through the crowd of people. Crappy 80’s music blares from the speakers and people are dancing (well, at least Steve thinks that is what they’re doing because all the undulating hips just look spastic and weird and not at all sexy).

Brock helps him line up the booze on the island in the kitchen, and Steve looks up at the Same moment Natasha enters the room in a purple halter-top and a black leather skirt, short red hair softly brushing the tops of her shoulders. She’s smiling and looking at him with those pretty green eyes. “Steve!” She cries, and Steve supposes this is the moment his heart is supposed to give a little flip at the sight of her. Really all he feels is fond admiration for the beautiful girl in front of him, and the tense, jittery feeling telling him he should be elsewhere. Like maybe in a dark bedroom in a house on a maple-lined street a few blocks away with black and white pictures from a pinhole camera stuck to a corkboard. Like maybe with his best friend.

Natasha flings her arms around Steve’s neck and he hugs her back, burying his face in the soft curls of her hair. His hand nearly spans her back, and her skin is soft and warm beneath his fingertips. It’s everything he should want, but it feels like a hollow victory. Natasha pulls away, sliding her hands down his chest and tipping her head back to look him in the eye.

“Are you okay?” She asks, and Steve can feel his face fall because no, he really isn’t. Not at all. Natasha gets this adorable little crinkle in her brow and looks around, her eyes darting around the house before landing back on Steve, concerned. “Where’s Bucky?”

Steve feels his heart trip a little at the name, shoulders slumping slightly. “He’s not here,” Steve replies, and Natasha looks thoughtful for a moment. She suddenly grabs his hand and pulls him towards the stairs, and Steve can do little more than stumble after her and give her back a puzzled look.


	14. Chapter 14

Across the room, Sam glances up from his conversation with Wanda to see Steve climbing the stairs behind Natasha, her fingers intertwined with his. He sighs sadly, and Wanda follows his gaze. She watches Natasha and Steve for a moment before giving Sam a curious look.

“My friends are idiots,” Sam says, smirking and taking a sip from his cup. Wanda gives him a warm little smile over the rim of her cup, and his heart skips a beat.

“Steve and Bucky?” She inquires, and Sam gives a slightly startled nod. “They’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Let’s hope,” Sam laughs, resting his shoulder against the wall. “I, for one, am sick of dealing with them.”

“Why have you never really tried to talk to me before?” Wanda asks suddenly, and Sam flushes. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, and then takes a drink from his cup.

“Well, I mean – have you seen you?” Sam finally says, and Wanda laughs softly and ducks her head.

“I’m glad you’re talking to me now,” Wanda says, and Sam’s whole face lights up.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning a little closer. “Me too.”


	15. Chapter 15

Natasha closes her bedroom door behind them, and Steve sits down on the edge of the bed nervously. All he could think about for the past two years was being right here, in this very position, and now all he can think of is ways to let her down easy.

“Steve,” Natasha says, all soft and sweet as she sits down next to him on the bed. “What happened? Did you and Bucky have a fight?”

Steve looks over at her, startled to see her caring, concerned expression. This is definitely not what he imagined happening when Natasha dragged him upstairs. “Uh – what? I mean, yeah, sort of.” He ducks his head, brow crinkling. He can count the number of actual fights he and Bucky have had on one hand, the last one being when Bucky melted Steve’s GI Joe with a magnifying glass. They were twelve, and the fight lasted a day and a half. Bucky bought him a new one, fresh in the box, with his allowance. Two days later they blew it up with a firecracker. All was well.

“It’s sort of obvious,” Natasha says, distracting Steve from his thoughts. “I mean, you’re here without him, and you look like someone just killed your puppy.”

“Oh,” is all Steve says, and he pushes his hair back from his face. His chest is all achy and his stomach is turning. And not to mention that he’s really fucking confused.

“It’s alright,” Natasha says, rubbing soothing circles on Steve’s back. “You guys are perfect. You’re like, the couple all other couples aspire to be. It’ll work out.”

“Yeah,” Steve replies absently. He shoots up when he finally realizes what she said. The look he gives her is incredulous. “Wait - what?”

“What?” Natasha repeats, her brow crinkling.

“Me and Bucky – we’re not – I mean, we’re not together. Not like that. I’m not – I’m not gay. Just he is.” Steve stammers, feeling his cheeks heat up. Natasha’s eyes widen and she puts her hand over her mouth.

“Oh god,” she groans and then grins sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I just assumed. You guys are just so close. Oh wow.” She giggles and Steve stares at her in horror.

“I’ve had a crush on you since you moved here!” Steve blurts and then claps both hands over his mouth. Natasha stares at him for a second and then busts up laughing.

“I totally would have made a move on you if I hadn’t thought you were in love with Bucky,” Natasha laughs. “I mean, the way you guys look at each other. It’s intense.”

Steve thinks on that for a long moment, and finally turns towards Natasha. She cocks her head at him, eyes all warm and sympathetic. She puts her hand on his thigh, and there was a time, yesterday even, when the action would have driven him crazy.

That’s when it hits him, right there in that moment. He’s in Natasha’s bedroom, her hand is on his thigh and she’s close enough that he can smell the soft floral scent of her perfume. All this is going on, and all he can think about – all he wants - is Bucky.

He is well and truly fucked.

“Can I tell you something?” Steve asks, gnawing on his bottom lip. Natasha puts her hand on top of Steve’s and grins.

“Sure!” She says, smiling softly and bumping her shoulder against his. Steve looks at her, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a moment.

“Bucky told me he was in love with me tonight,” Steve says slowly, and his eyes widen as he says it aloud. Natasha blinks, and then smiles warmly.

“I’m not really surprised,” she replies. “Boy looks at you like you gave him the sun and the moon.”

“Also,” Steve continues, swallowing hard. He looks at her, voice slightly hysterical. “I’m pretty sure I’m having some sort of existential crisis.”

“And why is that?” Natasha asks gently, picking up one of Steve’s giant hands in her tiny ones.

“I’m pretty sure I love him back, and I’m just having a hard time working past the whole suddenly realizing I might be gay or at the very least bisexual thing.” Natasha gets up, bouncing up and down. Steve stares at her, throat working and mind racing. “Alright,” he says, smoothing his palms down his thighs. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with Bucky. So I like my best friend who happens to be a guy. That’s okay.” He pauses, staring straight ahead. “Yeah. Great. No, that’s fine.”

“Steve! Don’t get all freaked out and weird on me!” Natasha shakes his shoulders. “You two are so meant to be together. You’re going to be a perfect couple and you’ll have hot, glorious, life-affirming sex. And we’ll all go shopping together because I’ve always wanted someone to carry all my bags. It’ll be the start of a wonderful life together. Don’t ruin this for me!”

Steve stares up at her as she shakes his shoulders, panic in his eyes. Natasha nods and pulls on his arms, trying to get him to stand. “Come on,” she says, “I’m taking you to Bucky.”

Natasha pulls him down the stairs, and Steve struggles not to trip. “Move it, people!” She cries. “Man having an existential crisis here. Give him some room!”

Everybody turns to look at them, and Steve ducks his head to hide his flushing cheeks. Natasha pulls him over to Wanda, who is engrossed in conversation with Sam.

“Wanda,” she says, “you’re in charge. I have to take Steve to get his man.”

“Natasha!” He shrieks and then turns towards Sam and Wanda when they start to cheer. He stares at them, eyes wide in surprise, and Wanda kisses his cheek.

“Go get him, tiger!” She calls out, tipping her beer cup towards him.

“It’s about damn time, asshole,” Sam says and punches him hard on the shoulder. Steve laughs and laughs as Natasha pulls him out towards her car. This is going to work out. He’s sure of it.


	16. Chapter 16

The house is dark and empty when Bucky trudges inside. His parents are going to be gone overnight for some wine tasting thing with Steve’s parents, and Becca and Evelyn are staying at Steve’s house. The Barnes and the Rogerss’ are fucking weird, Bucky thinks. Five sets of best friends. They all get along so disgustingly well, and Bucky’s a little bit sad that he fucked it up.

He trudges upstairs without turning any lights on, startling and nearly falling down the goddamn stairs when his cell phone trills in his pocket. The tiny flare of hope that wells up inside him is quashed when Tony’s name flashes on the screen, with a picture of him flipping off the camera phone while wearing a Stetson is displayed above it.

“Hello?” Bucky answers, voice tired like he’s aged ten years in the last thirty minutes.

“Hey kid,” Tony answers, voice soft and compassionate in a way he very rarely ever is. He sounds a little drunk, soft around the edges and warm. Bucky can hear the barely concealed noises of a party in full swing in the background, like maybe Tony shut himself in a bedroom just to call Bucky. The thought makes him smile a little. “You alright? You bolted outta here like a spooked colt. Your brother was worried.”

“I’m fine,” Bucky lies. All’s quiet for a moment as Tony pauses, Bucky listening to the sounds of his breathing as he toes off his shoes and flops down onto his bed.

“It’s Steve, isn’t it?” Tony asks, and Bucky groans. He isn’t sure what it is about a fifth of tequila that turns Tony into a hot, young version of Dr. Phil, but sometimes Bucky likes it. He isn’t sure now is one of those times.

“Does everyone know?” Bucky asks, throwing his arm across his eyes. He hears Tony chuckle softly on the other end of the line, and then a soft, long intake of breath like Tony is smoking. Bucky craves a cigarette so bad he can taste it. Or pot. Pot would be good about now.

“Everyone except your boy, it seems. Stupid as a bag of rocks, in my opinion,” Tony drawls, and Bucky stares at the ceiling. He switches the phone to his other ear and takes a deep breath.

“Yeah, well,” Bucky sighs, “who asked you?”

“Why don’t you come back over here, Bucky? We could wind down. Or get wound up, if you’d prefer,” he says in a low, seductive tone that has Bucky biting his bottom lip. It’s severely tempting. It would be a welcome distraction. But in the morning, when he woke up tangled in sticky damp sheets, he would just regret it.

“Ben is going to kick your ass if you keep this up,” he says teasingly, instead of the yeah, okay that’s threatening to slip out.

“I ain’t afraid of that asshole,” Tony says. He pauses for a moment, and Bucky turns to face the wall. “You sure you’re alright? I don’t like to think of you hurtin’ over there all by yourself.”

“I’m fine,” Bucky says again, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. There’s a sudden burst of noise in his ear. Music, voices, and Tony’s amused shouts.

“Put it on speaker,” a familiar voice says, and the music quiets again as the phone beeps in his ear.

“Hey little brother!” It’s Ben and Garrett, sounding buzzed but concerned, and Bucky’s heart swells.

“Did my punk ass idiot of a stupid little brother find you?” Garrett asks, and Bucky bites his lip.

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “He did. I told him,” Bucky blurts out. “I told him everything.”

“And what happened?” Ben and Garrett say in unison again, and Bucky hears scuffling on the other end of the line along with Tony’s rumbling laugh. He doesn’t quite catch it all, but he gets murmurings of he’s my brother, asshole and only because you won’t trade with me, selfish jerk. Bucky sighs and Tony pointedly clears his throat. “What happened?” They say in unison again, urgently.

“He didn’t say anything,” Bucky says, voice trembling slightly. “And then he went to Natasha’s party.”

“He left you? That little asshole,” Garrett says. “I’m going to kick his ass.”

“He’s your brother,” Bucky reminds him, and Garrett snorts.

“And? He’s also a blind, stupid little shit who can’t see a good thing when it’s right in front of him,” Garrett says. Bucky feels his eyes get a little wet. He’s so lucky to have like, fourteen older brothers that look out for him. Even if one of them constantly tries to get him in bed.

“All that is well and good,” Bucky says, “but the fact of the matter is that Steve is straight. So it’s all kind of a moot point anyway.”

“Come on,” Ben says, a smirk evident in his voice, “everyone is a little bit gay.”

“Hey, quit looking at me, asshole,” Tony says suddenly.

“I made out with Garrett that one time,” Ben says casually, and Bucky chokes on a gasp.

“Excuse me? When did this happen?” Bucky inquires, feeling a smile tugging at his lips despite himself.

“DUDE!” Garrett shrieks. “We were fifteen, and it was a game of truth or dare! And I only did it so Kristy Burlington would think I was hot and let me touch her tits under Eddie Wilder’s basement stairs! And we agreed never to speak of it again!”

“Whatever,” Ben says. “You liked it.”

Bucky laughs, finger tips digging into his stomach as he listens to them. He suddenly wishes he were there with them, and wonders whether it’s sort of pathetic that he’s about to graduate from high school and pretty much all he wants in that moment is a hug from his big brother.

“Bucky,” Ben says, voice softer now, full of brotherly concern. “Why don’t you come over, kid? I promise I won’t let Tony molest you.” A pause. “Ow! Don’t hit me, fucker.”

Bucky huffs another laugh and lets out a deep breath. “No thanks, guys. I think I’m just going to take a shower and go to bed. I’m really beat.”

“Alright,” Ben says. “You know where we’ll be if you need anything.”

“Yeah, I do,” Bucky says fondly.

“G’night, kid,” Garrett says. “And for what it’s worth, I think you would make an awesome brother-in-law.”

“Bye,” Bucky says, quickly ending the call. He feels his eyes glass over with moisture and he bites his bottom lip against the swell of emotion. The Rogers's’ are his family. Steve is his family, and above all else, he hopes they can remain friends.

He lets his cell phone drop down to the bed next to him, lying there until the backlight clicks off and he is bathed in darkness. With a huff, he rolls off of the bed and walks slowly towards his bedroom door.

On his way out of the room, something catches his eye and he slows to a stop. It’s a framed photo on his desk of him and Steve taken shortly after Steve’s sixteenth birthday. It’s the two of them, arms wrapped around each other, holding out their brand new driver’s licenses with stupid grins on their faces. Steve had made Bucky wait four agonizing months so they could get them together. In the end, it was worth it.

Their moms had loved the photo so much they framed it and gave Steve and Bucky each a copy. They quickly pronounced the gift lame, but Bucky knows for a fact that Steve has his up in his room too.

Bucky stares at the photo, realizing that not even two years ago, he and Steve had just been best friends. Everything had been so easy, so simple before white-hot want began to claw at Bucky’s belly. It had only gotten worse from there.

It’s strange to know that his future with Steve is now uncertain. They may now part ways and see each other only on holidays when they both happen to come home, sharing awkward conversations and only being in the same room because their families are so close.

The thought makes Bucky ache even more, and a melancholy frown pulls at his lips as he knocks the picture over on his way out of the room. The heavy frame makes a resounding bang as it falls face down. Bucky barely hears it as he makes his way towards the bathroom for a shower.

Once in the shower, he turns the water on as hot as he can stand it and presses his forehead against the cool tile. He tries to empty his mind and relax, but he can’t. All he can think about is Steve, and how much he’s going to miss his best friend.

He knew as soon as he realized what these new feelings for Steve were, that this would end badly. And now it has. His eyes glass over again but he refuses to let any tears fall.

He gets out of the shower and towels off, avoiding his reflection in the mirror as he scrubs the towel through his hair and brushes his teeth. He doesn’t want to see his pale, sad face and red eyes. He pulls on a thin pair of cotton pants and yanks the bathroom door open. A burst of steam follows him out into the hallway, and he trudges towards his bedroom. He feels bone tired, and he just wants to curl up and sleep.

He jumps a little when he enters his bedroom, because Steve is sitting on the floor, back leaning against his bed and his long legs splayed out in front of him. He’s got the picture Bucky knocked over in his hands, and he looks up when Bucky walks in.

Bucky’s breath catches in his throat as their eyes meet, Steve’s eyes glassy and sad. Bucky sags against the doorframe and looks away from Steve. He crosses his arms self-consciously across his bare chest. He doesn’t want Steve to see him like this; pale and tired with red rimmed eyes. Especially when Steve himself is the cause.

Steve stands up slowly, clearing his throat and setting the picture frame down in its original position on Bucky’s desk. He looks at it for a second and then flicks his gaze towards Bucky, who tries very hard not to look at him.

“Can we talk?” Steve asks, voice small and rough. Bucky finally looks over at him, wincing slightly as he nods. He’s shocked to see Steve in his bedroom, but he can’t help but fear the looming conversation. Bucky walks over to his dresser and pulls on a plain black tee, wiping a few stray drops of water from the back of his neck. He faces his bed, his back to Steve, and waits for the other boy to start talking.


	17. Chapter 17

Steve knew the moment he let himself into Bucky’s house with the key that was given to him back in the third grade that he had fucked up big time. He should have gone with Bucky instead of Sam. He should have talked to Bucky. He should have kissed him back.

And while he’s glad that he got some sort of closure with Natasha, he knows he has some work to do. He felt miserable after realizing what he did, brushing Bucky off after his best friend had laid his heart and soul bare. Steve just stomped all over them, and he hopes he can make it right.

He studies the tense lines of Bucky’s back, noticing the way the tag sticks up out of his shirt. Steve clears his throat and takes a step forward, swift fingers deftly tucking the tag back underneath the black cotton. Bucky shudders as his fingers ghost across the back of his neck and Steve lets them linger there for a moment, feeling silky skin under his thumb.

“What do you want, Steve?” Bucky grits out, ducking away from Steve’s hand. Steve mourns the loss of that heated skin under his hand. He wants to touch Bucky. He’s always touching Bucky like he needs it - has been for years, and he feels really stupid for not having this particular existential crisis a bit sooner.

“I wanted to see you,” Steve says softly, and Bucky slowly turns to look over his shoulder at him. His eyes are curious but guarded, his lips still turned down into a slight pout, and Steve takes a step forward. “I wanted to talk to you – to, to say I’m sorry.”

“So do it,” Bucky says, turning fully around. His arms are crossed and his expression is carefully blank. Bucky has never cut himself off around Steve, not once. It stings, but Steve knows he deserves it.

Now that he’s facing Bucky, he isn’t quite sure how to proceed. He doesn’t know how to express what’s going on in his head, and it’s frustrating because Bucky usually just knows without Steve having to say anything at all. But now, Bucky is just staring at him with fierce green eyes, bitten red lips turned down into a slight frown of displeasure.

“Natasha thought we were a couple,” Steve blurts out suddenly, and Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his expression doesn’t change other than that one tiny hint of mild surprise. “She’s always thought we were a couple.” Bucky raises one elegant eyebrow, still staring unnervingly at him. “She came up to me and asked if we had a fight because I looked so sad and you weren’t there,” he continues. “And we talked and she helped me realize something.”

Steve takes another step forward so that he is so close to Bucky that he has to look down slightly to meet his eyes. Bucky takes a half step back, but he drops his arms to his sides and meets Steve’s gaze, and that lessens the tiny sting Steve felt when Bucky stepped away from him. “She helped me realize that even though I’ve had this crush on her for two years, I never once pictured her in my future.”

“Okay…” Bucky trails off, looking away from Steve. He rubs the back of his neck, a sure sign that he’s nervous, and Steve notices that his damp hair is just starting to dry. Tiny droplets of water cling to the ends of hair around his chin, and it’s insane how much Steve wants to run his fingers through it and get that wetness on his hands.

“It was always you,” Steve says quietly, and Bucky’s eyes snap back to his in an instant. Steve is looking at him seriously, but there’s a flush of color in his cheeks. He’s pretty sure his heart is beating out of his chest and Bucky is still just staring at him, full lips slightly parted.

Bucky stays silent, his eyes flitting to Steve’s mouth and back again. Steve’s heart beats even faster.

“Whenever I thought about my future, it was always you I saw. Not Natasha, not anyone else – it was you. You’re the one that knows me – knows how to make me laugh. And I think I never really knew what it meant until tonight, until you told me how you felt.”

“What?” Bucky finally breathes after a few agonizing moments of silence. Steve’s frustration grows and he takes a step backwards, digging his fingers into his hair. He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to figure out just what to say. He needs Bucky to understand.

“When you were kissing Tony, it was like, the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Steve confesses. Bucky blushes scarlet in an endearing way and his hand returns to the back of his neck. Steve takes a deep breath and continues, voice low and soft. “And it made me jealous. I – I wanted to be the one kissing you like that.”

Bucky looks at Steve for a long moment, his eyes full of emotions Steve can’t quite decipher. Bucky’s features harden, lips pressing into a firm line, and Steve swallows.

“Then why didn’t you say anything when I fucking spilled my guts to you on a street corner?” Bucky yells, looking hurt. “Why didn’t you kiss me back?” He asks, softer, voice breaking slightly on the last word.

“I was confused, Buck! I thought the universe was playing some sort of cosmic joke on me.” Steve tries to crack a smile, but it falls a little flat. “Well - and then Clint hit me with his car.”

“You were confused,” Bucky repeats slowly, crossing his arms over his chest again. “And what – now you’re not?”

“No,” Steve replies sheepishly. “I’m pretty sure I’m still confused, but not about this – not about us.”

“What are you trying to say, Steve?” Bucky looks exasperated and angry. “What do you want?” Bucky throws his arms to the side, giving Steve a challenging look.

“I want – Buck,” he takes a step forward and puts his hand on Bucky’s arm, looking into his eyes. “I want you. I want to try. I want us.”

“And then what if we try and you decide this isn’t what you want,” Bucky replies softly, looking up from under his lashes. “What if you decide it would be easier to run off and be with some pretty little girl than to be with me? You can’t – don’t do that to me.”

“Bucky,” Steve replies softly. “You’re my best friend. You’re usually the first person I think about in the morning and the last person I think about before falling asleep. You mean so much to me and – and I would die for you.” He pauses, taking a deep breath and putting his hands on Bucky’s shoulders before he can get anymore melodramatic. His fingers skim up the sides of Bucky’s neck, thumbs fitting underneath Bucky’s jaw as he shudders and closes his eyes. Steve leans in, resting his forehead against Bucky’s, eyes closed and voice barely a whisper. “If that’s not love, I don’t know what could be. It’s not my fault I’m too fucking stupid to realize it.”

Bucky’s hands come up to rest on Steve’s forearms, their noses bumping together as they share the air between their lips. “Stevie, I – “ He cuts himself off, his thumb brushing the pulse point on Steve’s wrist.

Steve feels split open and raw from his confession, and he doesn’t know what else to say to make this happen. So instead, he cups Bucky’s face and kisses him.

Bucky’s lips part on a soft gasp and Steve flicks his tongue over them before kissing him again, more firmly this time. One of his hands grips Bucky’s hip and he pulls away, chuckling softly.

“Buck,” he breathes, his lips ghosting over Bucky’s, “kiss me back.” He presses a soft kiss to the corner of Bucky’s mouth and murmurs, “I want you to kiss me back.”

And then, Bucky does.

When Steve feels Bucky’s lips open under his, his stomach flutters and he thinks  _ finally _ , but he knows he hasn’t been waiting nearly as long as Bucky. He places his hand in the middle of Bucky’s back and kisses him eagerly. It feels like he’s wanted this forever, or at least he should have been.

Bucky is an amazing kisser, with full plush lips and a sinful tongue. Bucky’s hands land on Steve’s hips, thumbs skirting the flesh revealed under the hem of his shirt. It’s Bucky’s shirt, and the thought makes him a little dizzy.

Bucky is shaking, just a tiny vibration in his hands, and Steve knows he’s doing the same thing. Bucky lets out a soft whimper, a tiny noise in the back of his throat, and it makes Steve’s head spin. Steve tries to shift his head to the side, smashing his nose against Bucky’s. They pull apart sheepishly, Steve biting his lip as Bucky wrinkles his nose.

They watch each other for a moment, their harsh breathing the only sound in the room. Bucky looks dazed, and he reaches up with a trembling hand to brush the hair away from Steve’s face. He cups Steve’s cheek, his thumb skimming across his cheekbone. He leans back in, but stops, green eyes flickering between Steve’s eyes and mouth a few times before he finally closes the distance between them.

Steve kisses him slow and intense, cradling the back of Bucky’s head in one giant hand as he learns the curves of Bucky’s lips, the velvet smoothness of his tongue.

It’s incredible. He’s had a few girlfriends, and kissing always sort of felt like a warm up. Granted, kissing was usually the main event, but it never felt like this, like he could stand here in the middle of Bucky’s bedroom and just kiss and kiss until he passed out from lack of air.

Bucky sags against him, like his knees just aren’t strong enough to keep him upright. He braces himself with his hands on Steve’s chest, palms flat against smooth muscle. Steve catches him, wrapping strong arms tight around Bucky’s waist.

Truth is, his legs aren’t feeling very strong either. He’s dizzy with lack of oxygen but the word stop isn’t even in his vocabulary right now, much less an actual option.

Steve backs them up until the back of his legs hit the edge of Bucky’s large bed. He pulls away, staring at Bucky in shock and awe. He slides his hands down Bucky’s forearms, long fingers circling delicate wrists. He slides his thumbs across the thin skin there, feeling his rapid pulse.

Steve sits down on the edge of the bed and looks up at Bucky. A sudden swell of emotion hits Steve as he looks up at his best friend, seeing the surprise and disbelief in his eyes. There’s also heat there, a look Steve has seen directed at him before but could never place until now.

It all feels unreal, and Steve’s chest tightens as he looks up at Bucky. It feels like fate, sort of like this moment was meant to be. Still, that can’t erase the nerves that make him shake as he grabs Bucky’s hips, thumbs rubbing at the skin stretched tight over his hip bones. He slides his hands around to Bucky’s back, feeling Bucky shudder as his hands slip under his tee shirt and up his spine. He leans in and presses his forehead against Bucky’s stomach, inhaling the scent of his soap. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and reminding himself that this is really happening.

The feel of Bucky’s hands on him, soft and hesitant on his shoulders, brings him back to the moment. He presses a soft kiss to Bucky’s stomach through his shirt and looks up at him with liquid eyes. He twines their hands together, marveling at how well their fingers seem to fit. Finally, after taking a deep breath, he lays back on the bed, pulling Bucky with him by their joined hands.

Bucky comes willingly, sighing contentedly and draping himself over Steve’s body when Steve’s arms come around him in a strong embrace. Bucky props himself up over Steve, chest heaving with the quick breaths that Steve can feel against his moist lips.

Steve closes his eyes, tilting his head up and skimming his cheek across Bucky’s jaw. The faint stubble he feels against his skin sends a shiver down his spine, reminding him of exactly what he’s doing, and who he’s doing it with. He nudges Bucky’s chin up with his nose and presses a kiss to Bucky’s neck.

They move languidly, slow like any sudden movements will break the spell they’re caught in. Bucky pulls his head back, staring into Steve’s eyes. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but he closes it again. He rests a hand against Steve’s cheek and leans down, slowly pressing a kiss to the mole under Steve’s cheek bone. He kisses the sharp tip of his nose next, and then his eyebrow as his fingers slip into Steve’s hair. Bucky’s lips are soft and reverent, and Steve can feel the heat from them even after he’s moved onto a new spot.

His heart is beating wildly because this is probably the single most intense moment of his life. He’s never felt more… loved. Bucky is sprinkling kisses across his face like an act of worship. Bucky, one of the most important people in Steve’s life, is kissing him like he really means it, like he never wants to stop, and it’s making Steve’s head spin.

Steve puts his hands on either side of Bucky’s face, thumbs stroking across his cheekbones as he kisses him again, a little deeper this time. They kiss hungrily, nipping at each other’s lips and letting soft moans escape.

Steve has no idea how long they kiss. It feels like forever and mere moments all at once, but his lips are tingling and swollen and he’s dizzy with lack of air. Bucky’s arms are shaking with exertion from holding himself up, and Steve realizes that he’s trying to keep his hips from making contact with his own. That doesn’t sit well with him, not when he needs to feel everything, so he grabs Bucky’s hips with both hands and pulls him down flush against him. Their kiss breaks on a gasp, and Steve groans when he feels Bucky’s dick against his hip, hard and hot through the flimsy cotton of his pants.

Bucky tries to lift his hips up again, a gorgeous flush spreading across his cheeks, but Steve won’t let him. He digs his fingertips into Bucky’s hips and pulls him back down, bucking his own hips up against Bucky’s. A soft whimper escapes Bucky’s swollen lips and he buries his face in Steve’s neck, kissing and sucking there as their hips start to move together.

It feels different, but so fucking good, and Steve is so turned on he can barely think straight. His dick is painfully hard, denim rubbing rough against it. He flips them over so he’s on top of Bucky, propping himself up on one hand so he can watch Bucky’s face when he begins to roll his hips fluidly against Bucky’s, and he certainly doesn’t disappoint. Bucky moans, squeezing his eyes shut and tossing his head back. He grabs Steve’s hips and moves with him, fingernails digging into the flesh just above his jeans.

Sweat gathers at Bucky’s temples and along his neck, and Steve leans down to lick his way up the smooth column of Bucky’s throat to his lips, kissing him hard and deep.

Steve lowers himself to his elbow, so now his entire body is flush with Bucky’s, still kissing him as his other hand wanders past the loose waistband of Bucky’s pants. His fingers slide along the bare skin stretched over Bucky’s hipbones and then lower, following the cut of his hips until his fingers reach coarse hair.

He pulls away from Bucky’s mouth, both of them panting, lips shining obscenely in the moonlight filtering in through the window. Bucky’s pupils are blown wide, and he looks up at Steve with pleading eyes, giving a short, jerky nod. Steve lets his hand slip lower, his fingers sliding along Bucky’s shaft. Bucky lets out a little gasp, and Steve adjusts his hips to give himself a little more room. Bucky is already sticky with pre-come, and it slicks the way when Steve wraps his hand around Bucky’s dick for the first time. Steve swallows hard, watching Bucky’s face carefully as he gives an experimental squeeze, sliding his hand up and letting his thumb slip over the head.

Bucky moans low in his throat and arches up, eyes squeezed shut and head tipped back. Steve starts a rhythm, jerking Bucky almost like he would himself - just a little hard, thumb sliding across the head every few strokes.

Bucky is biting on his lips, squirming and keeping his eyes closed. Steve reaches up with his other hand, cupping Bucky’s cheek and sliding his thumb under one eye. Bucky gets the hint and opens his eyes, meeting Steve’s gaze. Bucky grabs his face and kisses him, tongue plunging into his mouth almost frantically now as Steve ruts against his hip.

Steve rolls to the side a little, pulling away from the kiss to look down Bucky’s body. He takes his hand from Bucky’s face and slides his shirt up his stomach, thumb circling the navel a few times before he slides his hand lower. He slides Bucky’s sweats down over his hips, pulling them down Bucky’s thighs as he watches his dick slip in and out of Steve’s fist.

He’s almost surprised at how hot he finds it, the dark red head of Bucky’s cock slipping through his fingers, clear liquid leaking from the tip and making his hand sticky. Bucky moans again, the sound like an electric shock to Steve’s own dick. He leans down to press a soft kiss to Bucky’s bare stomach before looking up at his face with hooded eyes.

At that moment, Bucky is the hottest thing Steve has ever seen. He watches Steve, eyes full of wonder, sinful cherry red lips parted. Bucky reaches down to fumble with the button of Steve’s jeans at the same moment Steve tries to get Bucky’s shirt off with one hand, the other still wrapped around his dick. They end up getting tangled up in their clothing and they break apart, chuckling nervously and shedding the rest of their clothes.

Once they’re done, they turn to each other, both of them blushing furiously as they take in each other’s naked bodies. Steve is the first to make a move, pushing Bucky down into the pillows and climbing on top of him. Their lips come back together as Steve’s hand wraps back around Bucky’s dick. Bucky reaches down to return the favor, grasping and pulling in such a perfect way that Steve can’t even focus. He stops kissing, just watching Bucky’s face as they jerk each other off.

Bucky looks dazed, panting and looking up at Steve like this might be a dream, like he’s afraid of waking up. Steve presses his lips softly against Bucky’s, assuring him. Bucky pants out Steve’s name desperately, his hips jerking as he comes. It slicks up Steve’s hand and Bucky’s own thighs, Bucky moaning and gasping as his orgasm rips through him. His hand falters on Steve’s dick, but he doesn’t even notice, too fascinated by the ropes of milky come pooled in the crease where Bucky’s thigh meets his groin.

He runs his fingers through it, smearing it across Bucky’s skin, following that crease down and back. His wet, sticky fingertip brushes Bucky’s hole and he bucks his hips, tilting his head back as he arches up. Steve is fascinated by the reaction, and before he can even think about it, he gathers up more come on two fingers and hooks his thumb under Bucky’s bent knee, pulling his legs apart a little. He presses his fingertips against Bucky’s hole, rubbing Bucky’s own come into it and watching the way the muscle flutters. Bucky spreads his legs wider, canting his hips up in such a pretty invitation, and Steve slowly slides the tip of his middle finger inside of Bucky.

Bucky moans loudly and Steve is fascinated, slipping his finger in further before pulling it out and circling his hole again. Bucky sits up, grabbing Steve’s forearm and leaning in close.

“That lube is in the pocket of my jeans,” he pants, shyly meeting Steve’s eyes. Steve just nods, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Bucky’s lips before scrambling awkwardly off of the bed. He finds Bucky’s jeans and shoves his hand in the right pocket, closing his fingers around the items and pulling them out. He stares down at the lube and the condoms in his palm, swallowing hard. His heart is pounding and he’s dizzy from all the emotions swimming through his head. He turns to look at Bucky, spread out naked on the bed. His knees are bent and he’s got his hands over his eyes, chest heaving like he’s as nervous as Steve is.

He looks gorgeous, and Steve can’t deny that he just wants to get back in that bed and never come up for air. At that moment, he can’t think of a single reason why he shouldn’t do this with Bucky. It all seems to make so much sense. It’s like their entire lives have been leading up to this moment. He can’t help but get dramatic, because that’s what he does and this is Bucky. This is his best friend and he’s about to sleep with him. More specifically, he’s about to sleep with a guy, when up until an hour ago the thought of doing so had never even occurred to him. This has the potential to go so badly, but when Bucky looks over at him, eyes questioning and hopeful, Steve knows his decision is made.

He wants this. Whatever may happen in the future, he wants to experience this with Bucky. There are no lingering doubts as he climbs back onto the bed, only the desire to make this perfect for Bucky.

This is his virginity. It’s the first time for both of them and Bucky is so trusting and beautiful that Steve can hardly even breathe, his hands shaking as he slicks his fingers with lube. Bucky hisses as a cool drop of it hits his belly, and Steve smiles. He kisses the inside of Bucky’s knee, biting softly as he circles his entrance again, one slick finger sliding in slowly to the knuckle. Bucky gasps as he starts to move his finger in and out, their eyes locking as Bucky starts to roll his hips with Steve’s hand.

“More,” Bucky gasps out, and Steve pulls out only to slowly push two fingers back in. Bucky hisses and reaches down to grab Steve’s wrist, holding him still for a moment. Bucky blinks and flexes experimentally.

Bucky is so hot, clenching Steve’s fingers like a vice and he really has no idea how his dick is supposed to fit. Bucky lets go of his wrist then, nodding and rocking his hips. Steve starts a slow rhythm, his other hand bracing himself up as he leans down to suck and kiss at Bucky’s inner thigh. His cock is hard again, leaking against his pale belly. Steve leans down to lick at the stickiness below Bucky’s navel. Bitter flavor bursts across his tongue, but it’s not unpleasant.

He slides up Bucky’s body, pressing light kisses to his neck and jaw. He can feel Bucky open up a little around his fingers, and he presses his lips to Bucky’s as he adds a third. Bucky seems to barely notice, too busy shoving his tongue in Steve’s mouth and rolling his hips in an obscenely hot way.

“Do you want me to?” Steve mumbles against Bucky’s mouth, his free hand pushing Bucky’s hair back. He can feel Bucky trembling beneath him, stretched tight and aching, and he holds his breath while waiting for the answer.


	18. Chapter 18

Bucky stares up into Steve’s eyes, almost black with lust. He’s so nervous he’s shaking but he wants this, and he finds himself nodding. He puts his hand on Steve’s cheek, sliding his thumb along Steve’s bottom lip.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, sliding his hand down Steve’s neck and chest. Steve lets out a breath and nods, withdrawing his fingers. Bucky sighs from the loss and lifts his head, watching as Steve rolls on a condom with shaky, inexperienced fingers. He has no idea what he’s doing, but neither does Bucky really, and that’s okay. He sits up, wrapping an arm around Steve’s shoulder and whispering in his ear.

“Breathe,” Bucky says, trying to make himself follow his own advice. “Just go slow, Steve.” He presses a kiss under Steve’s jaw. “It’ll be so good.”

Steve nods, watching Bucky as he lies back down. Bucky watches as he slicks himself with lube, eyes widening slightly at the sheer size of Steve. He lets his legs fall open as Steve positions himself, one hand resting on Bucky’s hip and the other on his dick. He can feel the blunt head at his entrance and meets Steve’s questioning gaze. Bucky nods once and reaches up to place his hand over Steve’s heart, bracing himself for the pain.

Steve pushes in slowly, and it hurts. Bucky’s eyes slam shut and he forces himself to breathe. Steve places both hands on Bucky’s hips, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs as he buries himself deep inside. It seems to take forever, and Bucky digs his fingernails into Steve’s chest, eyes screwed shut and breath caught in his throat.

“Do you want me to stop?” Steve sounds ragged and worried, and he pauses until Bucky forces his eyes open. Bucky wants to say yes, because god, it fucking hurts, but he shakes his head and lets out a breath. He slides his hand up to the back of Steve’s neck and watches him, his eyes open and wanting.

A few more seconds, and he’s in. Steve’s hips are snug against Bucky’s ass, and it’s the most amazing thing Bucky’s ever felt. The boundaries of their friendship have been shattered, every unspoken rule broken, and Bucky knows things can never go back to the way they were, not after he’s felt this.

“Wait,” Bucky says, surprised at how rough his voice is. He takes a deep breath and kisses Steve, waiting as the pain subsides. Steve’s arms are shaking as he holds himself up, sweat dampening the dark curls at his temples and the back of his neck, but he stays perfectly still.

Bucky squeezes the back of Steve’s neck, shifting his hips experimentally. Steve hisses, dropping his head down to nuzzle at the sweaty juncture of Bucky’s neck and shoulder.

“Oh god, Buck. You feel so good.” Steve’s voice sends shivers down his spine and he relaxes, spreading his legs wider and lifting them to wrap loosely around Steve’s tiny waist.

“Okay,” Bucky says roughly. “Do it.” Steve props himself up on his arms again, studying Bucky’s face for any signs of discomfort. When he finds none, he pulls almost all of the way out before pushing back in slow and smooth. Bucky groans, back arching obscenely as he clutches the sheets in one hand, the other still gripping the back of Steve’s neck.

It still hurts, but it’s amazing because it’s Steve. He feels so safe with Steve, and he can’t believe he ever entertained the thought of trusting anyone else to do this.

Steve grabs Bucky’s hips and sits up a little, changing the angle and completely blowing Bucky’s fucking mind as Steve hits something inside him that makes him lose it. He moans and arches up, fucking back against Steve and writhing on the bed.

The best part, besides the stars exploding behind his eyes and the pleasure crackling down his spine, is watching Steve’s face. He forces his eyes to stay open, taking in the way Steve stares down at the place where their bodies meet. Steve is biting his lip and groaning, letting his eyes squeeze shut for a second before he forces them open to look at Bucky again.

Suddenly, Steve surges forward, slamming so deep inside of Bucky and smashing their lips together as he continues to thrust. Bucky’s cock is trapped between their bellies, hard and leaking. Steve wraps one arm around the back of his shoulders, lifting him off of the bed slightly as they kiss, his other hand squeezing Bucky’s hip hard enough to bruise as he slides into Bucky over and over.

Bucky feels his eyes itch, tearing up slightly because this is it. This is what he’s wanted, what he’s been waiting for and it hurts but it also feels so fucking good and it’s Steve. Bucky peppers his face with kisses, moaning whenever Steve hits that spot inside of him.

“Oh shit,” Steve says, sliding one hand up Bucky’s belly to rest on his chest. “I’m not – I’m almost there.”

“Me too,” Bucky pants. “Touch me. Please, Steve, come on.” Steve barely wastes a second before wrapping his giant hand around Bucky’s aching dick.

It’s only a few seconds before Bucky lets out a shout, heat and electricity exploding through his entire body as he arches up and comes. He falls back to the bed, gasping for breath and forcing himself to stay coherent enough to keep his hips moving with Steve’s.

“Come on, Steve,” Bucky pants, his hand coming up to tangle in Steve’s hair. “I want to see you lose it.”

Apparently that does it, because Steve throws his head back, the hottest noise Bucky has ever heard coming from him as he stills inside of Bucky. For a second, Bucky curses the condom because he wants to feel everything. He wants to feel Steve’s come hot inside of him, dripping down his thighs.

He pushes those thoughts aside as Steve collapses on top of him, gasping into Bucky’s neck. He swears he can feel Steve’s heart beating against his chest and he takes a deep breath, willing his own to slow down. Steve gathers Bucky up in his arms, placing wet kisses up the side of Bucky’s neck and jaw to his lips. They kiss for awhile, tongues colliding lazily as they both try to recover.

After a few moments, Steve pulls back to look at Bucky. The intensity of his gaze makes Bucky shiver but he can’t look away, his eyes locked to Steve’s. There is something like surprise in Steve’s eyes. He looks almost in awe of Bucky and what just happened, his fingertips affectionately tracing the side of Bucky’s face.

Steve puts his hand on Bucky’s hip and pulls out slowly, his eyes flicking back up to Bucky when he lets out a soft hiss.

“You okay?” Steve asks, softly touching Bucky’s glistening, swollen hole with his fingers. Bucky’s hips jerk and he nods, shifting his hips a little. Steve sits up and pulls off the condom, tossing it in the trashcan next to Bucky’s desk. He doesn’t waste any time lying down next to Bucky, their shoulders bumping as they stare up at the ceiling.

Their breathing returns to normal but Bucky’s heart is still beating rapidly. He’s not sure if it’s from the mind-blowing orgasm or the fear of what happens now. Just as the moment threatens to get awkward, Steve speaks in a low, falsely cocky tone.

“So, uh… was it good for you?” Bucky looks over to see Steve wiggle his eyebrows comically. Bucky can’t help it, he laughs, long and hard, and rolls on his side to face Steve and kiss him, still chuckling against his swollen lips.

Bucky pulls away and rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, letting out a soft sigh as he rests his hand on Steve’s sweaty sScottach.

They’re both silent for a while, but this time it’s comfortable. Bucky’s eyelids droop closed as a content smile plays on his lips. He can feel Steve’s fingers idly playing with the damp ends of his hair and he presses a lazy kiss just above Steve’s nipple. He sort of wants to lick it, to bite down on it, but after two orgasms he’s pretty worn out. Maybe after a nap.

“Hey bucky?” Steve asks, and his voice is so soft and hesitant that Bucky doesn’t even reprimand him for the nickname. He tenses instead, closing his eyes and bracing himself, because this all feels too perfect.

“Yeah?” Bucky rasps out. Steve must feel him tense, because he wraps his arm tighter around Bucky, fingertips curling around Bucky’s arm.

“I was just wondering how long you’ve, uh – liked me? I guess.” Bucky groans, feeling his face heat up. He lifts his head to bury his face in Steve’s neck.

“About a year,” Bucky mumbles, giving Steve’s neck little suckling kisses in an attempt to distract him from the conversation. But then he lifts his head and meets Steve’s curious gaze, and something compels him to continue. “I think I realized it when my appendix burst in your kitchen and you freaked the fuck out and called 911.”

“I didn’t freak out!” Steve exclaims, affronted. Bucky snorts a laugh and traces Steve’s collarbone with his fingers.

“Dude, you cried.” Steve gives him a withering glare and Bucky just laughs, ducking his head and pressing a kiss under Steve’s jaw.

“Whatever. My best friend screamed and like, passed out mid chocolate chip cookie. It freaked me out.” Steve tries to sound offended, but he lets out a soft sigh and tilts his head to the side to expose more of his neck to Bucky.

“Yeah,” Bucky replies once he gets down to Steve’s collarbone, his tone serious again. “And then you were there with my parents when I woke up from surgery and you missed that huge party at the lake to be all bedridden with me, even though you knew that Maria would probably dump you for ditching her.” He curls up against Steve and pillows his head on Steve’s chest. “I think it sort of hit me that night, when I was lying in bed wallowing and you showed up with Chinese food and shitty horror movies and that ended up being even better than partying at the lake.”

“That was a great weekend,” Steve replies, fingertips trailing up Bucky’s spine. “We watched every single episode of Family Guy.”

“What the deuce?” Bucky quotes in a near perfect Stewie impression. He hides a yawn behind his hand. He feels sated, calm and happy. And he really sort of wants to fall sleep all wrapped up in Steve’s arms.

Steve yawns, long and hard, before turning onto his side and pulling Bucky into his arms. He buries his face in Bucky’s neck and lets out a content sigh.

“Sleep,” Steve whispers, slipping one of his thighs between Bucky’s, and really, he should have pegged Steve for a cuddler. Not that he’s complaining.

“You’re going to be here when I wake up, right?” Bucky asks, and instantly cringes at how vulnerable he sounds. Steve tightens his hold, lips pressed firm against Bucky’s neck.

“Have I ever let you down before?” Steve asks around a yawn, and Bucky smirks.

“No,” Bucky whispers, but Steve is already asleep. It’s not long before Bucky joins him, the small smile never leaving his face.


	19. Chapter 19

Bucky feels like he’s waking up from a dream, groggy and disconnected. He blinks a few times, the early morning sun making it hard to focus. Once he does, all he can see is miles of tan skin in front of his eyes. His head is on Steve’s chest, fingertips resting idly underneath a nipple. Bucky sucks in a huge breath, afraid to move.

This isn’t the first time they’ve slept in the same bed. It isn’t even the hundredth, but it’s so different. For one, they’re naked, and Bucky’s morning wood is pressing up against Steve’s hip. He lies there, perfectly still, waiting for Steve to wake up and inevitably freak out. His heart beats a rapid tattoo against his ribcage as he works himself into a panic without even trying.

“Tell your brain to shut up,” Steve murmurs sleepily, and then turns to embrace Bucky. He wraps his arms around him and buries his face in Bucky’s neck, one leg slung casually across his hips. “I’m not changing my mind about this,” Steve says, voice sounding sleepy but sure, muffled against Bucky’s sleep warm skin. “So you can quit waiting for me to freak out or whatever the hell it is you’re doing, because it isn’t going to happen.” Bucky laughs breathlessly, relief calming him almost instantly. He slides his hand down Steve’s back, looking over his shoulder at the firm curve of his ass.

“Gonna pin me, Stevie?” Bucky smirks, cupping his cheek and squeezing. He feels Steve’s dick twitch against his thigh, and he hitches his hips forward a little. “Gonna let me wear your letterman jacket?”

Steve lets out a soft growl, and suddenly Bucky is on his back and Steve has his wrists pinned to the pillow above his head. Bucky moans, back arching up a little. Steve kisses him, deep and sure, and then pulls back slightly to look at him.

“What do you want us to be, Buck?” Steve asks, voice light but eyes serious. Bucky flushes and bites his botScott lip, wrists flexing against Steve’s strong hold. He’s never really been embarrassed or shy around Steve in his entire life. Other people, sure. But Steve? He’s never felt the need to hide.

“Are you going to make me say it?” Bucky smirks, blue eyes shining as he bucks up against Steve. A groan escapes Steve’s lips and he reaches between them, grasping Bucky’s dick loosely.

“I think I’d like to hear it,” Steve retorts softly, fingers still a loose circle around Bucky’s aching dick.

“I want you to be my boyfriend, you punk,” Bucky grits out, hips pumping into that cruelly loose grasp.

“Then I’ll be your boyfriend, jerk.” Steve grins and bites Bucky’s chin. Warmth spreads through Bucky, and his heart threatens to pound out of his chest.

“So uh,” Steve starts, sliding his hands up Bucky’s sides. “Wanna make out?”

Bucky tosses his head back and laughs, bright and happy, and then flips them over so he is on top of Steve. He presses their lips together, and it’s not long before they’re sweaty and writhing, bodies pressed so tight together that there is no air between them.

It’s late morning by the time they finally roll out of bed, glistening with sweat and happy.

“My ass hurts so bad,” Bucky whines as he pulls on his sweatpants. Steve smirks and slips his hands around Bucky’s waist, fingers digging into the round cheeks.

“I’ll kiss it better later,” Steve mumbles against his forehead before pressing a soft kiss there. “But for now, I need food.”

They race each other down the stairs, and Steve wins only because he has freakish praying mantis legs and Bucky’s ass is one giant burning ache. Steve stumbles to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. “Oh, fuck me.”

“Sure thing, sugartits. Just let me grab a bowl of cereal first.” Bucky’s eyes widen when he catches up with Steve, and for good reason. His living room is full of douchebags.

“Morning little brothers!” Garrett and Ben croon in unison, nursing venti Starbucks lattes. They’re sprawled across the couch with Tony at one end while Bruce sits on the floor between Tony’s legs. Sam is sitting in the recliner eating Bucky’s cereal, and Scott and Clint are sitting on opposite ends of the coffee table playing Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Robots. Bucky didn’t even know they still owned that game.

“What the fuck are you all doing here?” Bucky asks, trying hard to keep from limping as he walks towards the kitchen.

“You fucking slut!” Ben calls out, and Bucky turns to see him pull a twenty out of his pocket and toss it at Garrett.

“Told you he’d put out on the first date,” Garrett replies, and Bucky hides his face in his hands.

“Go easy on him guys,” Sam chuckles. “He had a long, hard night.” He wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis, and Steve throws a pillow at his face.

“So what’s the verdict?” Bruce asks, smirking up at them. “Are you guys the new golden couple or what?”

Bucky looks over at Steve, eyes slightly hopeful. Steve takes a step over to him, giving him a meaningful look and bumping his hip against Bucky’s.

“Looks that way,” Steve says, draping his arm over Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky beams and looks down, trying to hide his flushing cheeks.

“Well hell,” Tony hollers, slapping his thigh, “it’s about goddamn time.”

“Wanna go to my house?” Steve asks Bucky, pulling away from him slightly. “Maybe we’ll get some privacy,” he adds, glaring at his brother.

“Don’t bother,” Garrett says, getting up. “We just wanted to be here for the walk of shame.”

“Yeah,” Ben adds, getting up and grabbing his car keys. “We’re going to the Waffle House anyway. And you guys aren’t fucking invited because you smell like gay sex. Let’s go.”

Sam sets his cereal bowl down on the coffee table and stretches before getting up to join them. “What, so are you guys like friends with Sam now?” Bucky asks, and Sam shoots him a mock glare.

“Sam!” Clint shouts, wrapping his arms around him. “Yeah, this guy is great.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam pushes Clint off of him and grins. “They’re dropping me off at home. I’m hanging out with Wanda today.”

“When the fuck did that happen?” Bucky asks incredulously, sharing a look with Steve.

“Hey. You guys finally fucking isn’t the only awesome thing that happened last night,” Sam says. “Call me when you come up for air.”

“Later,” Garrett says, cuffing Steve on the side of the head. Ben follows suit with Bucky and they all file out.

“Finally,” Steve sighs, and gives Bucky a little smile before they both head towards the kitchen. They don’t even have to say anything. This has become a ritual. They each grab a giant bowl from the cupboard and retrieve their cereal boxes from the pantry. Bucky fills his bowl with Trix and Steve takes Honeycomb. They pour milk over the top and grab spoons before retreating to the living room.

They plop down on the couch and put their feet up on the table. Bucky turns on the television and finds cartoons and they eat their cereal in silence.

They’ve done this on countless Saturdays, but this time is a little different. They’re sitting a little closer, thighs brushing and elbows bumping. They keep sneaking glances at each other when they think the other isn’t looking.

It feels like every other lazy Saturday, and when they switch cereal bowls halfway through and share a soft kiss that tastes like sugary milk, that’s just a bonus.


	20. Epilogue - Graduation

“Dude,” Steve says eloquently as he sits down next to Bucky. “I feel like Green Day’s Time of Your Life should be playing or something.”

“Ah, the quintessential end of an era song,” Bucky mumbles around the filter of his cigarette as he tries to light it. “Fitting.”

“This is like, sad. I didn’t think it would be, but it is.” Steve leans against the rough cinderblock back of the old home team dugout. He sighs and slumps down, causing Bucky to squawk around his cigarette and haul Steve up by his shoulders.

“Dude, you’re gonna snag your robe,” Bucky says, holding his cigarette with one hand and smoothing down the back of Steve’s navy blue graduation robe with the other. Steve rolls his eyes and sets his cap, carefully, on the ground next to him.

“Don’t worry about it, mom,” Steve replies, and Bucky makes a face.

“You just ruined any chance of me giving you a clandestine blowjob behind the dugout,” Bucky tells him, and then wraps those plump lips of his deliberately around the filter of his cigarette as if to show Steve exactly what he’s missing out on. Steve narrows his eyes and shifts his hips a little.

“Jerk,” he mumbles, and then looks around. He can hear the band playing and the murmur of the crowd, the soft breeze carrying the noise down from the football field. “How much time do we have?”

Bucky stubs his cigarette out and hauls up one side of his robe, digging into his pocket to get his cell phone. He glances at it and slips it back into the pocket of his slacks. “About thirty minutes until we’re required to be on the field, although technically we’re supposed to be lining up in the gym.”

Steve sighs and looks around. He actually is surprised to realize how sad he is about leaving high school. He turns to look at Bucky, studying his boyfriend’s elegant profile. He’s got his eyes closed and his head tipped back, a slight crease between his eyes like maybe he’s thinking the Same thing.

“You’ve gotta be at least a little bit sad,” Steve says, poking Bucky’s hip with one long finger.

“Not really,” he replies without opening his eyes. “The only person I ever really gave a shit about at this place is going to college with me, so I’m good.”

Steve smiles, his heart thumping a little faster at Bucky’s words. It’s only been two weeks, but this is by far the best relationship he’s ever been in. And it’s with Bucky, his smart, funny, gorgeous, asshole of a best friend.

“Oh honey,” Steve coos, “I didn’t know you cared!”

“Who says I’m talking about you?” Bucky questions, smirking. “I’m talking about Natasha. Girl’s a wildcat in the sack.”

“You’re such a fucking liar, you queer.” Steve laughs and then leans over to plant a sloppy kiss on Bucky’s lips. He sort of misses and catches the corner of his mouth and the side of his chin instead. Bucky snorts and turns slightly towards Steve, putting his hands on either side of Steve’s face and kissing him soundly.

Steve teases at Bucky’s full bottom lip with little licks and bites, his fists bunching in Bucky’s robe. It seems sort of wildly appropriate, making out in this spot that’s been their refuge for four grueling years of high school. It’s kind of like leaving their mark, making it clear that they’ve made it together. Together. Like lovers. The thought still makes Steve’s head spin.

Bucky growls a little against Steve’s lips, which Steve has learned to mean he’s getting really fired up. These last two weeks have been great, just wrapping up classes and graduation practice, using the extra spare time to learn each other’s already familiar bodies in a new and intimate way. Steve catalogs every noise Bucky makes, every spot he likes to be touched or kissed or bitten.

Bucky lifts one knee in an apparent attempt to straddle Steve’s lap and get some serious dry humping started, but he seems to have forgotten that he’s wearing a robe. The material stays pinned to the ground by his body as he tries to jerk up, and he over-balances and slips, falling across Steve’s lap and nearly face planting in the dirt.

Steve tosses his head back and laughs so hard his stomach hurts. Bucky pushes himself up and knees Steve in the junk as he goes to sit back down next to him. Steve’s laughter turns into a coughing fit and Bucky smiles serenely.

“Sorry!” He chirps. Steve looks over at him, watching him bat those ridiculous lashes, and he tackles him to the ground. “Steve!” He laughs, clutching Steve’s biceps as Steve’s mouth attacks his neck. “You asshole. You’re going to get me all dirty. It’s going to look like I had a quickie in the dirt in my graduation photos.”

“So we should probably have a quickie in the dirt,” Steve says, lining their hips up and grinding down, “just so it’s justifiable.”

Before Bucky can respond, Steve kisses him, his tongue plunging into Bucky’s willing mouth. He grinds his hips down into Bucky’s, content to get off just like this, even if it does mean he’ll have to endure a three-hour graduation ceremony in sticky slacks.

“Whoa! Public sex alert!” A familiar voice calls out, and Steve and Bucky scramble apart.

“Kinky. But you guys should probably hang a sign or something. Warning: Gay Sex Ahead. Enter at your own risk,” Ben says, holding his hands out and miming a sign. Steve gets to his feet and glares at Ben and Garrett as he brushes the dirt from his robe. Bucky comes to stand next to him, and he doesn’t even have to look to know Bucky is blushing.

“You said enter,” Garrett chuckles, and then they both laugh like idiots.

“Can we help you?” Bucky asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Steve, however, is just thankful for the loose hanging baggy material of his robe, because his raging hard-on still hasn’t gone away. Not even the appearance of Ben and Garrett can undo the effects of Bucky’s lips on his skin.

“Yeah,” Garrett says. “You can stop being little douchebags by hiding out in our spot.”

“Uh, wait,” Steve says, holding up one finger. “Don’t you mean the spot you bequeathed to us when you two assholes graduated?”

“And look at you back here defiling it with your homo love,” Garrett replies, giving the spot a slightly nostalgic once over.

“Look at Mr. Graduate over here. Busting out bequeathed,” Ben laughs, and Steve flips him the bird.

“The ‘rents are searching high and low for you, actually,” Garrett says, and then nods at Ben. “But we wanted to find you first.”

“Why? What’d we do?” Steve says, and Bucky laughs next to him. Ben and Garrett just smile warmly as Ben pulls an envelope out of his back pocket.

“We just wanted to give you your present.” Ben hands over the envelope and Bucky takes it, looking from Ben to Steve with a curious expression. Steve shrugs and looks over Bucky’s shoulder as the shorter boy opens the envelope. He pulls out some official looking forms. He and Bucky share a quizzical look and when Steve leans in closer, he realizes that they are housing forms naming him and Bucky as roommates in their dorm next year.

Bucky looks up at him then, their noses grazing from being so close. They grin at each other, bump their foreheads softly together, and turn back towards their brothers.

“Guys,” Bucky starts, “this is awesome. Thank you.”

“Yeah,” Steve adds. “How’d you swing this?”

“It’s really no big deal,” Ben replies. “There’s this girl – Becky, that I hang with. She works in the housing office and she hooked it up.”

“And we were going to do this before you guys even started fucking,” Garrett says, “but now it’s just an added bonus. Because now we won’t have to deal with your whiney, horny asses on our doorstep every time your roommates put scrunchies on the door.”

“Is this Becky girl going to take it back once she realizes what a dick you are?” Bucky asks, but his eyes are soft and pleased.

“Dude, it’s not even like that. She’s just a friend who enjoys abusing her authority. But her friend Crystal -” Ben lets out a low whistle and then smirks. Steve and Bucky laugh, grinning hard as Bucky puts the papers back in the envelope.

“We’ll take that for now,” Garrett says, taking the envelope back, “since apparently y’all like to roll around in the dirt in expensive clothes.”

“Thanks guys,” Steve says sincerely, his eyes full of fond affection for them. “This is seriously great.”

“Yeah,” Bucky adds. “Just – wow. Yeah. Thanks.”

“Dude,” Garrett says, cutting Ben a look. “We gotta get out of here. The gay is catching.”

“True words,” Ben says, nodding. “Now get the fuck to the gym. Because I didn’t put on a goddamn tie in ninety degree weather so you two could fuck your way through your graduation ceremony.”

Steve and Bucky grin, brushing all the dirt off of each other’s robes until they look as good as new. They grab their caps and put them on, both of them reaching out at the Same time to move the tassel to the correct side of each other’s caps. They laugh and lean in, going to kiss but unable to because of the brim of their caps. They laugh again and tilt their heads enough so they can manage, sharing a quick kiss.

“Oh my god, dude,” Garrett says, putting his fist up in front of his mouth. “I’m gonna be sick.”

“You two just gave me diabetes. Thank you for that,” Ben says. “Get your asses to the gym.”

Steve and Bucky wave their hands, their eyes only for each other. Ben and Garrett roll their eyes and walk back towards the football field.

Once they’re alone, Steve reaches up and tugs on Bucky’s tassel playfully. Bucky smiles, a private smile that only Steve gets to see. His eyes are bright and green, cheeks flushed with pleasure, and Steve falls a little bit more each day.

“Are you ready for this?” Steve asks, smoothing his hands down Bucky’s arms. He feels a little nervous, and for a moment he isn’t sure whether or not he means graduation or their future together. Bucky looks into his eyes and he seems to know exactly what Steve is thinking, just like he always does.

“We’re gonna be fine,” Bucky says, winking at Steve. Bucky twines their fingers together and leads Steve away from the place they’ve known for years and towards the graduation ceremony, towards their future – together.


End file.
